Political
by Aimsaru
Summary: The marriage would cause a distraction, a grand affair to enrapture the people and distract them from the changes their government was undertaking. A political marriage between two powers. Korra x Iroh. First chapter is Makorra but later chapters will be Korroh.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I just wanted to write something that would excite strong emotion. Let me know if I've succeeded! Written while listening to Aqualung - "Tongue-tied"

* * *

"Please don't hate me," her voice was like a bell, sweet and ringing. It was a familiar song that had once made him feel so alight with happiness and that now, given their situation, made him feel as though his heart had turned to ash.

His responding laugh was harsh and cold. Empty.

"Hate you? You're breaking _my heart_ and you're afraid that I'm going to hate you?"

"I don't have a choice-"

"You always have a choice," he barked out, fire flaring behind his eyes and smoke sizzling from his skin.

"You know that's not true," she replied solemnly.

His shoulders slumped. As much as he wanted to rage at her, shake her, and hold her…he knew that this hadn't been her choice. This wasn't what either of them would have wanted.

She stepped towards him, her movements slow as if approaching a wounded animal, and he supposed that she was. He felt small and scared, trapped by his pain and ready to lash out.

One, two timid steps and then her fingers were on his face and he was tugging her into his arms, wrapping her up as if he could contain her there forever. As if he could make her stay, warm and secure. Next to his heart. He buried his nose in her hair, his eyes shut tightly to dam the tears that were threatening to overflow.

"I couldn't bear it if you hated me," she whispered, her arms tightening around his waist, her hands splayed over his shoulders so that they touched at every point. Her face was snuggled into his neck, lips brushing against his scarf.

"I can't bear _this, _Korra. It's too much. We were supposed to-"

"I know," she whispered, her voice catching in her throat as her fingers brushed through his hair. "I know," she repeated.

She pulled back, her eyes staring into his. That flawless, opalescent blue that he had come to know every facet of. He searched her face, he had studied every line of her face during their relationship, her every expression had been cherished and tucked away. As he tucked this one away, now. Forehead wrinkled and blue eyes brimming with pain, pink lips full and chapped.

He could see his own heartache reflected in her gaze. He could see just how shattered she really was, how much she loved him. How much she wished that she could fight. _What it cost her to give in._

And he loved her, Agni help him. He never had a choice in that.

"I can't hate you, Korra. I am so, so angry but I can't hate you. I never could. I just—I don't know what to feel."

Silence fell between them, moments lengthening into minutes before she spoke again.

"Then fight me," her voice was strong and stern. Resolve sinking into the tone and cutting through the waver, covering the break.

He nodded tiredly. This was how she understood him- Understood him more than anyone ever had. He wasn't good at dealing with emotions, especially emotions like this. That tore at your insides and ripped out your heart. He had been internalizing things for far too long, ever since he was an eight-year old boy that was forced to grow up too fast.

Fighting was his outlet, his way to channel his feelings into something physical.

And somehow, for Mako, that was a lot less dangerous than confronting his feelings head on. Easier than facing the ache that was already opening like a wound just under his ribs. The emptiness and apathy creeping forward and sucking him in with all of the gravity of a black hole.

She was offering this to him, this way to express himself, to share one last sparring match with her.

_Fight __**me.**_

Because they couldn't fight _it_. They couldn't keep her from her duty.

She pulled away from the circle of his arm, falling into a crouch of defense, awaiting his first move. Determination and fire sat stubbornly on her features, burning through the tear tracks and splotchy red skin. She needed this too.

He watched her for a moment, taking in her fierce attitude and expression. Letting it wash over him like a breeze. This beautiful, amazing, and strong woman. He would never find another person like her.

He swallowed thickly before stretching his legs into the all too familiar stance, his arms up and his feet shoulder width apart. Ready to spar, to fight, to fire bend.

They nodded at each other, signaling their readiness, and then he was sprinting forward.

A fireball came racing from his fist, arcing overhead and speeding towards her.

Korra dodged, diving to the side and sending her own spiral of air out to crash against his sternum, knocking him back. He growled, low in his throat. She was going to give it her all, he noted, and heat raced through his veins. Excitement and adrenalin infused him.

Attack, defend, and dodge. It was a dance between them, primal and dark.

Disks of earth came whistling past his ear, vibrating through the air with a whirr of sound. They collided with the net at his back as he spun forward, advancing towards her with blazing intensity. A kick of fire and a punch of flame.

Water sliced through the air, hardening into crystals of ice that scratched into his flesh and hit the ground with little sharp pings and clinks. Ember eyes widened at her ferocity, his dark eyebrows pulling down in consternation.

"You're holding back!" she shouted and he could hear the tears returning, the desperation in her cry.

Her arms were wind milling, spinning in a rush of elements as she screamed and grunted with the effort. Her body was wracking with sobs and Mako darted forward, gripping one of her arms at the wrist and stealing into her space.

An angry windstorm met him as he pressed his body against hers, scorching heat pouring from her outstretched hands and then he was tugging her forward, making her stumble and her head fall back.

Before she could blink, He crashed his lips down upon hers.

He could feel the fight seeping out of her. The tenseness of her body relaxing into his arms, her mouth opening to his in a well-practiced amble, a tangle of tongues and lips and teeth.

He kissed her as if his life depended on it. Sharing her breath and savoring her taste. His tongue slid against her own in a wet caress, exploring her mouth, twisting over the velvet muscle and running along her teeth. She was gasping against his lips, her chest expanding with the motion so that her breasts were pressed against him.

"Mako," she sighed and he peppered kisses along her lips, nipping at the plump smooth flesh before moving down to her jaw and along the column of her throat.

She wrapped her arms around his head, winding her fingers through his hair. He rested his forehead against her collar bone, breathing her in and exhaling warm breath against her skin. He didn't want to think about it, but the thoughts wouldn't leave him alone. This would be their last time. These would be their last moments.

He shook under her arms and she squeezed him tighter.

"Make love to me?" she asked and he could've laughed—if he remembered how. If he didn't feel so hollow.

She didn't have to ask. He could never deny her anything, especially not now. Not now, for these few hours that she still belonged to him.

He raised his head, peering down into cerulean eyes and tawny skin- flushed red. His smile was small but meaningful and her returning one wasn't much better, but he brushed it aside, hunching down to lift her under her back and her knees.

He began carrying her bridal style from the gym and up the steps to his apartment. He shifted her when the stairway narrowed, so that her legs were wrapped around his hips and groaned at the feeling of her mouth on his neck. He could feel his pants tightening as she gently rotated her hips against him.

"Korra," he rumbled in warning. She snuggled into his shoulder, ceasing her movements and he was relieved that she recognized his need to take this slowly.

He pushed the bedroom door open with his shoulder and settled her down gently, her feet landing noiselessly on the floor. She rose up onto her tiptoes, gripping him behind the ears and pulling his mouth down to hers in a bruising kiss.

He was sinking in longing, his knees giving out, and then he was kneeling in front of her. His face pressed into her stomach and her fingers rubbing soothing patterns into his scalp. Her stomach was spasming beside his cheek and he knew that if he looked up that he would see that she was crying.

He pressed a kiss to her womb, to the place where their child would never grow. All of those discussions about having children together, all those hours spent planning a future together. A future that would never live anywhere but in dreams.

It was just another gaping loss to add to the pile.

Long pale fingers traveled over her hip, and up to her ribs. He traced each bump and ridge before moving higher; resting over her heart and feeling its beat, fascinated by the way it sped up, responding to this simple touch. His knuckles brushed the underside of her breast and her breath hitched in her throat.

His hands fluttered down to the hem of her shirt and he bunched it upwards, brushing a kiss against her toned abdomen. He watched as she gripped the material and dragged it up and over her head, so that she was bare above the waist, only her bindings covering the full cups of her breasts.

He breathed out slowly, the air from his lungs tickling over her flesh.

Her skin was warm against his palm as he flittered down over umber skin and untied her pelts, letting them fall to the floor before slipping his fingers under the waist band of her pants.

He pulled them down slowly, revealing the jutting bone of her hips. He loved that spot, the two hard bones that stuck out on either side of the shallows of her pelvis. He brushed his lips against her, there, on her left hip bone, his tongue sneaking out to taste the sweat on her skin. Wet, open mouthed kissed sliding down as his hands came around to cup over her bottom, pushing her pants down farther.

Korra didn't like to wear underwear, and it was a fact that Mako had secretly always loved, since he first discovered it in their early months of dating.

He brushed his nose against the light dusting of curls at her sex, breathing her in and resisting the urge to taste her. To make her quiver and shake until she fell limply to the floor. _Slowly, slowly_, he chanted to himself.

Her fingers tugged at his hair and he tilted his chin back, staring up at her. He gazed into half lidded eyes, pupils blown and irises now almost black with desire.

He rose to his feet as she kicked off her boots and shimmied out of her pants. Their gaze never breaking as he undid her wrappings. His hands palmed her breasts, thumbs and forefingers pinching at rapidly hardening nipples until she was moaning, the sound deep and throaty, her bottom jaw slackening and lips curving into an 'o'.

Mako nipped at her shoulder, kissing his way up her neck and over to her lips. Swallowing her breath until her head was swimming and the rest of her was positively drowning.

She was being lifted, her legs wrapping around him as he carried her over to the bed. He settled himself between her hips, still clothed, and stared down into her eyes. She didn't blink, just let him see, kept herself open until she could feel him looking past the blue paned windows and down into her soul. Reading her.

"Oh, Korra," he sighed so brokenly that she had to bring him back. She craned her neck, smashing her lips onto his own once more. Pouring herself into him.

He let his weight fall heavily upon her, shifting to his elbows, and she widened her legs, accommodating him.

She could feel his hardness through his pants and as he bucked against her she gasped. The friction sending prickles of warmth through her core.

He ground his hips down against her and she undulated in return, craving more pressure.

When he sat up, she sat up with him, scrabbling at his shoulders, gripping the fabric of his scarf and trying to pull him back into her arms.

He chuckled quietly, soft pecks landing on her lips, her forehead, her temple as he pressed her gently back onto the bed.

She was so beautiful like this, hair a mess around her head and dark skin flushed and glistening with sweat and excitement.

He blazed a trail of kisses down her stomach and over those perfect hips until he came to lie just between her thighs, at the apex to her sex.

He rested his cheek on her thigh, peering up at her and watching as her chest stuttered with short shuddering breaths.

He let his thumb feel her first, sliding over her folds and then slipping down to where she was most pink and finding her soaking.

He groaned, biting the flesh of her thigh lightly.

His fingers found their way inside of her, curling against her walls and reveling in the slickness. He pulled them out of her slowly, leaving her gasping as he brought his finger tips to his lips, tongue darting out to taste her. He moaned.

"Mako…" she was shuddering with need and he couldn't hold back anymore.

He spread her open with those same sinful fingers and lowered his mouth to her, tongue swirling over the bundle of nerves at the top and then dipping down to spear into her. Drinking her in until she was thrashing against the sheets and thrusting her hips roughly against his mouth.

Strong hands held her down as he licked his way back up to her clit, flicking over the bud with quick little strokes. His thumb was at her entrance, circling over the sensitive outer wall before sliding inside.

"Ah!" she was breathing harshly, her pulse racing against his tongue and he could feel her tightening like a spring as he replaced his thumb with two longer digits. She was quaking around him; Coiling and ready to erupt. Her hands fisted in his hair.

She exploded around his fingers, her orgasm ripping through her with a scream and he knew that he was smirking as he lapped up every bit of her pleasure. He loved this. He loved sharing his bed with her, making her come, and marking her as his. _His_ _Korra._

He didn't think that he had ever undressed so quickly in his entire life. Beautiful blue eyes laughing lazily at him as he divested himself of his cloths and fell back over her with a possessive growl.

She smiled up at him, her fingertips curling behind his ears and brushing lightly through his messy hair. He frowned, his eyebrows knitting together heavily over his eyes, hiding his pain as he kissed her.

His length slid wetly against her slit and then he was arching his back, raising his hips and aligning himself before falling into her heat.

.

Their lovemaking was a slow burn of passion. They took their time, imprinting the memories of being together in this most intimate of ways. Burning these moments into their minds and locking it away where no one could ever take it from them. Not these moments. Not their time.

Not the months and years of finding each other and overcoming war and hardship; of coming together only to be ripped apart again.

.

He stayed awake, long after her breathing had evened out. Watching her sleep in the bed they had come to share during their courtship.

Tomorrow she would travel to the Fire Nation.

She would sit in on endless meetings with their government, her hand resting gently on the arm of the man who was to be her husband. Playing a part and acting the happy fiancé.

'_I don't have a choice'_

It was all over the papers-The Fire Lady was stepping down. The people were calling for her resignation. Gossip had spread after high profile case involving a Fire Nation triad gang, that her rulings were more lenient on benders, especially _fire benders_.

This gossip was damaging in a post Equalist world. The anti-bending agenda had spread from Republic City and had been adopted by people who were down on their luck, depressed, and looking for someone to blame. Benders made a good scapegoat.

The people of the Fire Nation were calling for an end to the Monarchy and for a democracy to take its place, where heads of state were elected and chosen by the people instead of being determined by blood.

In light of the pressure from all sides, the Fire Lady had decided to step down and her Council of advisors had agreed with the motion.

General Iroh had been called home and was being prepared to take his rightful place on the throne. The expectation was that he was young and well liked; he could easily earn the respect of the people.

The Advisory Council proposed a more citizen-friendly government that they called a constitutional monarchy. They planned on employing a parliamentary system, where Iroh, as Fire Lord and head of state would retain some power. A vote for a Prime Minister would allow the people the extra taste of democracy that they so craved.

They all knew that it wouldn't be a smooth transition, that these adjustments would take time; that the love of the people would have to be hard earned by Prince Iroh. That during the transition period, all of the members of the Fire Nation Royal Family would be under constant threat of danger.

_Enter Korra. _

The Avatar would be the piece put into place to smooth it all over. The people loved her, idolized her. Having her in their corner, with her words in their favor, was a tactical advantage.

The marriage would cause a distraction, a grand affair to enrapture the people and distract them from the changes their government was undertaking.

A political marriage between two powers.

It was a slight of hand that made Mako feel sick.

But not nearly as ill as imagining her walking down the aisle, Or of her taking her vows with another man- on another continent, in another country. So far from his gaze, his touch, his love.

It wasn't nearly as debilitating as imagining her in the other man's bed. Standing by _his_ side throughout the years and bearing his children.

A man that she didn't love and who didn't love her.

All for a lie to keep the people happy. To keep the peace in an otherwise warring world.

He cuddled into the girl in his bed, breathing her in and memorizing her scent. He trailed calloused palms down the skin of her arm, closing his eyes so that he could burn the feel of her skin into his mind.

He let his hand stop at her hip, wrapping around her stomach and spooning behind her.

His knuckles rubbed against the cheap scratchy cotton sheets that were unworthy of her presence and he sighed. The hard tatami mattress sat unyielding under them, she never complained of it, but he knew she found it uncomfortable.

'_It's not much,'_ he had mumbled the first time she had entered his bedroom. And it wasn't, he had nothing to give her but empty coffers, hardship, and misfortune.

She deserved so much more than he could ever offer her._ His Korra, _who had only been his for a short while_. His._

Tears prickled at his eyes as he brushed his nose against her nape.

"I could never-_Never_- hate you, Korra," he whispered into her hair, hoping that she would wait to wake. Wait until he could manage the tears now flowing freely down his face.

Wait until he could look strong for her.

Because she was so strong. For everyone else.

He wouldn't burden her. He wouldn't add to her pain. When they said goodbye he would hold her, bravely, and smother down all the words that he knew were too selfish to say.

_I love you._

_Don't leave me._

_I'm lost without you._

_Marry __**me**__…_

But he was a street rat from Republic City and she was the Avatar who would be Fire Lady. And in the end those words would mean only pain for them both.

Words left unsaid. Unheard. Unanswered.

_I love you, Korra._

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A/N: I plan on expanding this, future chapters will be _mainly_ Korroh, but I wanted to post this as a stand-alone Makorra as well


	2. Chapter 2

_CHAPTER 2_

"_Sometimes we find our destiny and other times, our destiny finds us," _Katara had said, reassuringly, when she had stopped off at the Southern Water Tribe to let her parents and the Order know of her decision.

Somehow Korra could find no comfort in the words. She had believed that she would find her destiny in Republic City. She had allowed her gut instincts to lead her to a boy with black hair and ember eyes. Knowing that he was meant to be hers; knowing it with the certainty and streak of confidence that lined all of her early, youthful, decisions.

She missed that girl, now. The girl who at three _knew_ that she was the Avatar. Who was unafraid of any of the opponents thrown her way by the Order at the compound. Who was unafraid to seize her fate in the palms of her hands. Who ran away at seventeen, to find her destiny, with only her Polar Bear Dog for company.

The girl who met a boy and made him hers.

Even after her confidence had faded away, burning to ash and rubble, matching the picture of a war torn city.

They had picked up the pieces, then, deciding that nothing could separate them. It was slow going. Arguments, stubbornness, and anger getting in the way of something that otherwise felt so right.

It took them another year, after admitting their feelings to finally make a go at it. Not just starts and stops but a real attempt at a relationship.

Traveling the world together, sharing her pilgrimage to the major nations as the Avatar, had only solidified their bond as they grew closer the more time they spent together. As they had adventures and shared new experiences. Sleeping under the scented canopy of trees and beside crackling camp fires. Resting their weary bodies in various hotel rooms and expansive guest quarters at fancy estates. Going to bed by each other's side and waking up tangled together, in sheets and skin.

How she missed it now. How she ached, only three weeks after saying their goodbyes, for his presence.

She sighed, looking out at the ocean. Salt air was whipping at her skin and tugging at her hair. Wind burn painting her face red as salt crystals glistened against her lashes.

In her younger days, before the war, Korra had been so sure of everything.

Now, at nearly twenty-one, she wasn't sure of anything at all. Certainly not of her destiny, although as they inched closer to the Fire Nation she could feel it wrapping around her neck like a noose.

Her destiny and duty, choking her.

Her destiny as the avatar had always been overwhelming but she had been trained from a young age, from books and scrolls. From oral traditions and past spiritual self-knowledge to know what that road entailed.

In _this_, she was lost.

In this she had no guide, not her past lives, not the constellations that she had learned how to read as a girl- Had learned how to make a map of the stars so that she could always find her way home.

But home was behind her now and she was so, so lost. So out of her depth of experience, her guides from the spirit realm remained tight lipped and silent.

This was her personal journey and it was understood that they would not interfere. It was a blow, to discover their absence in this time. She could use the wisdom of Yangchen and Aang right now. The strength of Kyoshi and the determination of Kuruk. The experience of Roku and his knowledge of the Fire Nation.

Instead they expected her to learn her own way, and learn she was.

Growing up she had always believed the world to be black and white but out here surrounded by grey waters and grey storm clouds she knew the truth.

No one ever truly knew in what direction their life would take them.

The world was so much more complex and the people so much more greedy and sinister than she had ever imagined. She didn't know how the Avatar had managed generation after generation.

But maybe that was just the bitterness talking.

Bitterness that she wouldn't have her happy ending. That she would be swallowed up by anger and loneliness and depression.

Fear that she would live out the rest of her days like Avatar Kuruk. Constantly longing for a love that was stolen away from her, before it ever truly had a chance to bloom.

No amount of time with Mako would have been enough.

The storm was beginning to pick up in the distance, black streaks dripping through the clouds, indicating that a wall of rain was steadily approaching.

She wanted to stay on deck, feel the water soak into her clothing and stare unblinking into the distance, rivulets of rain seeping between her lashes and over her eyes, her skin, her lips. Let it plaster her hair to her scalp and seep into her flesh until the coldness poured into her bones and she ached, down to the marrow. She wanted to watch the lightning flash against the water as the ocean broke against the ship in lurches and sways. Feel the pull of the maelstrom and see if she could resist the urge to meet it head on. As a woman, as a water bender, as the Avatar.

But she knew that they wouldn't let her. The Order of the White Lotus guards who had the duty of delivering her safely onto the banks of her new home would arrive soon to shuffle her below deck.

They would hide her away in her quarters to keep her safe, so that they could deliver her into the arms of a man she barely knew.

Her fiancée.

The Prince of the Fire Nation and General to the United Forces.

…

She scratched at her thighs through the strange material. It was slinky, revealing, and way too red.

It was a disaster to walk in and completely confining. She couldn't even perform a proper side kick in it (She knows, she'd tried). But the worst part was that amidst all of this horrible HEAT, with sweat slicking down her back and behind her knees, the material was horribly itchy.

She hated it. She hated everything about this city. The volcanoes and nearby islands, the strange trees with their long trunks and palm fronds. The strange technology, buses, and street cars (Asami would have a field day). The immodest clothing styles and the food that was so spicy that it could burn through your tongue.

It was different, this time around. When she had visited the Palace over a year ago it was as a guest. This time the palace was being presented as her new _home._

There was no wonderment of feeling. None of the touristy "Ooh, and Aaah!" that she had experienced on her previous visit.

Now she saw it for what it was. A cold, unfeeling, rigid Palace surrounded by barren scorched earth. It was a prison, walled off from the remainder of the city and defended by the elite Royal Procession.

It was the Fire Nation version of the frozen tundra's White Lotus Compound.

And she was only now wizening up to the truth of her imprisonment.

"What do you mean I can't leave?" she stood, her chair scraping against the floor and her fist beating against the thick wooden table top.

"Your every need will be taken care of in the palace. Your staff will—"

"I don't want a staff! I want to be able to dress myself and draw my own damned bath," she yelled petulantly. Ever since her arrival she had been followed around by three servants and it was absolutely frustrating, _aggravating_ to not be trusted to do anything on her own.

She was the Avatar for Agni's sake! She could take care of herself.

"As the future Fire Lady it is expected that you be taken care of."

"As the Avatar, you can shove all of that 'care' up your ass."

"_Charming_. That brings us to the other issue. Etiquette. As the Avatar your brash and rude behavior may have aided you in battle but as the Fire Lady you are expected to act-"

She rolled her eyes, resting her cheek on the heel of her palm until her cheek was smushed into her eye and her upper lip was pulled up in a mock snarl. She ignored the clucking of tongue of the other council members and stared out the window glumly. This was the third meeting, in as many days, between her and the Advisory Council and she was already exhausted with their badgering.

She just wanted to go outside and explore. Feel the wind in her hair and sand between her toes. She wanted to go for a ride on Naga and find some angry idiot and start a fight. Gods how she could use a good fight, blow off some steam. She desperately needed to hit something and if this old man didn't stop wheezing at her to embrace her new duties he was going to catch a fireball to the teeth.

"…The Fire Nation is heavily steeped in tradition and it is crucial that—"

"Look, as far as I am concerned, my future husband hasn't even arrived yet. The announcements haven't been made yet, and I am_ Not_ the Fire Lady _yet_," she spat, "I will do all the acting you want later but for now I just want to get the hell out of here."

"Avatar Korra, you must be reasonable—"

"UGH!" she shouted, throwing her hands up in the air. "I am not a child and I will not be a slave to my duty."

"Neither will I," a deep, melodious voice floated over from the door and Korra stopped, her head swiveling to its source.

….

A/N: I may have to give this a slight Gigi/My Fair Lady flare in later chapters. Perhaps even a bit Taming of the Shrew haha

I just can't help myself with Iroh he's positively Austen-ian!


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thank you for the reviews so far! I'm still deciding where to go with this story (I have the plot pretty much mapped out but writing it is another matter) and my main focus is trying to flesh out the feelings of the main characters given their circumstance. I don't have a Beta so there will be mistakes here and there, if anyone would like to beta the chapters please feel free to send me a PM. The POV will shift back and forth in this chapter a bit, but I like to play a little bit of hopscotch with my writing.

…

If this fic had a theme song it would probably be Phaeleh –Afterglow.

"Taking control of the elements,

Making them mine, making them mine.

Touching up all of the elements,

Takin' my time, takin' my time.

Takin' a hold of the present day,

Pushin' it all, pushin' it all, pushing it.

Takin' control of my destiny,

Makin' it fine, makin' it fine, makin' it."

* * *

CHAPTER 3

"_UGH!" she shouted, throwing her hands up in the air. "I am not a child and I will not be a slave to my duty."_

"_Neither will I," a deep, melodious voice floated over from the door and Korra stopped, her head swiveling to its source._

…

He entered the room with all of the command of a General and all of the pompous regality of a Prince. There was a lofty tilt to his chiseled jaw and one hand was folded behind his back, the other over his chest.

He was still dressed in his uniform, a long red coat with golden inlays over pressed white trousers tucked into knee-high boots. His medals were pinned to his breast and just above that was a stiff, red collar with golden edges, and a white cravat. He had discarded the white gloves.

He bowed deeply, his eyes to the floor as he greeted the council. She watched the movement, musing at his appearance. He hadn't changed much in the two years since she had seen him last. Maybe an extra crinkle around the eyes, a tightening that denoted stress but otherwise, the same.

Serious, commanding, and circumspect. Taciturn and dull.

"Prince Iroh…" council member Almeiza simpered, her fingers wringing around joints knotted with arthritis. Korra rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. She snorted indelicately, her eyes spinning round to fall on the man who-would-be-Fire-Lord and their eyes caught for a moment.

His eyes were piercing, and his gaze uncomfortable. She resisted the urge to throw something at him and instead settled on squinting at him with eyes narrowed in suspicion. She could have sworn she saw an upwards quirk, just a hint of expression, on his wide mouth but it was wiped away before she could be sure.

"Ah, Prince Iroh," Kazou started in at him, "We were just explaining to Avatar Korra the expec—"

Iroh held up a hand in dismissal and the white haired man stopped short, "I am not here for the meeting, Councilman Kazou. I have only just arrived and I am afraid that I am rather exhausted."

"Of course, your Highness."

"I would actually like to speak to Avatar Korra, alone, if the meeting is concluded. I believe that we have a lot to discuss."

Understatement of the century there, _Your Highness._

**.**

**.**

He scrutinized her appearance as the council members shuffled out of the room, greeting him respectfully as they passed.

The majority of her hair was pulled up into a top knot, reminiscent of her typical wolf tail but with a golden hair wrap replacing the blue. Shorter strands curled over the apples of her cheeks and drifted down to frame her face. Under the top knot, the rest of her hair was left down, falling behind her shoulders. Two chunks were separated in thick braids and wrapped in coils of gold.

She had changed in the years since their last meeting. Her face seemed longer, thinner somehow. Her eyes appeared less childlike and wide. They were deeper set into their hollows, the skin around them darker, the arch of her brow and the shape of her cheek bones more defined. The bits of lingering baby fat that she had once carried on her features had melted away. She had become a woman.

Her face was turned to the window, staring out blankly and ignoring the Council members as they moved around her. She was leaning forward, her elbows braced on the arms of her chair and there was a slight pout to her lips. Yellow light was flittering in, glittering on her hairpieces and bathing her in its luminous glow.

It would be quite the elegant picture, really, if it weren't for the flaring at her nostrils that bespoke of her ire. Or the way her fingernails were biting viciously into the wood until the beds were white.

Still, the colors of the room made a lovely complement to the burnished copper of her skin. The rich cardinal tones suited her.

Her modern style, scarlet choli blouse was sleeveless and cropped just below her breast, showing off a wide expanse of toned sinew and muscle. He noted that her neck and arms were unadorned, it was all together a rather plain look compared to the popular contemporary fashions of the Fire Nation Capitol.

It certainly didn't live up to the usual standards befitting a guest of her stature.

He imagined that she had more than likely fought the people dressing her for the day with just as much vigor and force of will as she had been showing poor Kazou.

The old man had been a part of the Advisory Council for as long as he could remember. He was stubborn as a mule-goat but not unkind. He had a strong sense of honor and was devoted to maintaining the old ways. He had an extensive library and could talk anyone, who would listen, into an early grave as he expounded the importance of tradition.

Yes, Kazou had probably deserved it.

He admired her fire. There weren't many people who would act so audaciously towards the Advisory Council. She had seemed to him, when they first met, to be headstrong and venturous. Ingenuous, sincere, and noble.

But, truth be told, he really didn't know her very well.

She was an acquaintance then. And now she is a stranger who is to be his wife.

He had heard of her boisterous nature but from what little time he had spent with her during the war and afterward, during the restoration, when she was struggling with the temporary loss of her bending—during that time she had been different. Her face shrouded in shadow and the fight crushed out of her, laughter and youthful joy taken along with her bending, Before he'd ever gotten the chance to see it.

He'd never personally born witness to the extremes of emotion that she was famous for.

Until now.

As the door clicked shut, locking them inside together, her eyes sprung to him with as much crashing impact as a steam locomotive.

She was fuming, hotter than embers- Dangerous and combustible. Her anger was palpable and he felt just the slightest stirrings of pity for the younger girl.

Her eyes were glinting, accusatory, vibrant and blue.

It was a wonder that the Council hadn't stifled her spirit, but if his grandfather's stories were anything to go by, the Avatar was always surprising. A great ally with a strong intuitive sense. A person to be trusted.

These would make good qualities in a spouse, even if Iroh was disinclined to admit it.

He hated that he hadn't been able to make his own choice in this; detested that circumstance had stolen both of their chances to carve out a fate of their own.

He had always known that he wouldn't marry for love. He didn't grow to care for people easily, he tended to overthink things. It made him a worthy General, this tactical baring that he placed on every word, every decision. But it didn't earn him very many friends.

The Ocean and his ship were the true loves of his life. He had been married to his work for a very long time now and he was loath to be brought back under heel.

**.**

**.**

They sat together in silence after the last of the five Council members had disappeared from view. A tray of tea leaves, fine china, and hot water had been delivered to them and Korra watched, trying to calm her rioting feelings as he poured her a cup. The scent of jasmine brushed over her, soothing and alleviating. A pacifying balm. It made her think of long chats with Pema on brisk autumn evenings. Of fatherly kisses to her brow, the scent of jasmine tea curling from Tenzin's whiskers as he brushed a kiss over her hair, as he did Jinora, Ikki, and Meelo, before landing a big one on his wife.

The General poured a bit of tea for himself and held it up as if in blessing, his eyes closed, before taking a sip.

She wondered if this was a part of the etiquette that she was expected to learn. For her part, she kept her hand wrapped around her cup, letting the warmth spill between her fingers and scorch her palms.

"What is it that you want, Korra? It is important that you feel happy here," he brushed his thumb over his lips while looking at her.

Her eyes flashed, "Were you happy here?"

"No," he admitted honestly, "The palace is—"

"Stifling?"

He nodded his head to the side in agreement.

"It reminds me of the compound where I grew up. I swore that I would never live like that again."

"Then tell me how you would like to live? We can make negotiations."

"I-"

_I would like to live with Mako, in his cheap smelly apartment above the arena. Where the smoke and water damage had never fully cleared from the wood and the windows always had to be open so that the scent of the Bay would wash over everything. _

_Where the street lights and cars were so bright and loud that it was like a symphony of _life _everywhere._

_Where she was free to be Korra. _

_Not in these dark halls of black and gold and red. Where you were trailed after by staff that never spoke unless spoken to and your only friend for miles was kept in the stables outside, panting in the unnatural heat._

She breathed in deeply, smothering the words that wanted to crawl from her throat like bile and instead changed tact.

"Will you miss the sea?"

There was a tick at his jaw as he swallowed his tea. He considered his words, rolling them over his tongue and testing them before speaking.

"More than anything. She is a cruel mistress, but she was mine."

Korra nodded in silence.

"And will you miss Republic City?"

She shifted her eyes to the side, her breathing labored and a strange tightening forming in her chest. Her eyes alighted on a large tapestry hanging on the wall an elaborate scene of a man fighting a dragon, fire delicately embroidered at every corner. Dark and violent and drab.

_This could never be my home._

**.**

**.**

He watched as her expression darkened, attempting to read her body language and the direction of her thoughts.

"I'm sorry," he offered finally, setting his porcelain cup down on its saucer.

"This must all be very unfamiliar to you," he paused consideringly, "We are deeply indebted to you, Avatar Korra."

Her eyelids fluttered shut and her brows knit together, a wrinkle forming just between them. When she looked at him again his breath caught at the determination swirling in the oceanic depths.

"And _what of_ my duties as the Avatar?"

He was struck speechless for a moment. How was this to work? How could they have ever even considered…They hadn't, he realized.

It hit him like a punch to the gut.

He had at least thought that she had agreed of her own free will, but looking at her now, coiled like a cobra and ready to strike, he knew that they hadn't given her much of a choice. If any. Anger and disgust boiled up under his skin. He had hoped that at least one of them had even the_ illusion_ of a decision in this.

"Your duties as the Avatar will always take precedence to your duties as Fire Lady. I will let nothing stand in the way of that. You have my word."

.

.

There was still much to be discussed. Things that she feared to even ask.

One of the biggest being: What were his expectations of her, as his wife?

She shuddered.

"_I'd like to be your friend, Korra." _He'd said as they parted, his chilly tone a deep contrast to the warmth of the sentiment he was trying to portray. And while she had given him a small nod in affirmation and agreement, she wasn't truly sure that she had the strength to befriend the man that she would be chained to.

The man who promised that she would be able to leave the grounds in the future; but who she knew had very little control over that fact. The man who would be her husband as well as her cell mate. Her jailor and her guard.

The man who would own her in name and title.

Well, he could have the husk of her that remained. The bit of fire still smoking in the grate while the rest of her drifted on the wind, trying to find its way back to Republic City.

To the place where she'd left her heart.

* * *

A/N: I like to compare Korra's feelings towards Iroh here to the misconceptions she had towards Asami when they first met. Our Korra is stubborn and sometimes only sees what she wants to see.

Cheesy, I know. I'm trying to take things slow, it's only been a month since chapter 1 here, let me know what you think of the pacing.

Also, I have to apologize if Iroh seems OOC here. We didn't see a whole lot of him in the series other than his general BAMF-ness and ability as a tactician. I'm having to fill in a lot of blanks with his character (and with the Fire Nation royal family of course as we haven't seen his parents or how the Fire Nation capitol has changed since Aang's time.) I'm trying to do it justice but there may be gaps.

I'm basing a great deal of my canonical idea of Iroh off of this quote: "My grandfather would have trusted the Avatar's instincts and so will I" and the rest off of popular romantic figures and tropes.

Send me your thoughts and ideas, I devour them and use them as fuel.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I really don't want to rush this but I'd like to keep this story under 25 chapters if at all possible. So the occasional jump forward in time will occur. There will also be some humor in this chapter. It can't all be angst and tear bending.

You guys have such awesome ideas! I wish that I could fit them all into this fic but I hope, even more than that, that you write your own fics so that I can read them! I love how inspiring this fandom is, never change!

….

* * *

"It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live."

* * *

**Chapter 4**

She put one foot in front of the other. Hours speeding into days until another two weeks had come and gone without her permission. Each day was a small step forward, a tiny ambulation towards acceptance. Acceptance that this was what her life was going to be now.

It was really too bad then, that in her dreams, she was able to _run_, sprint even, in the opposite direction. It only made it that much harder when she awoke to her current reality.

Bright light, shaded red behind her eyelids flooded the room. The sound of curtains being ripped aside on metal hooks filled her ears, beating against the tiny drum inside and reverberating out. It was that clattering, accompanying the shatter of light that brought her bursting into consciousness.

She hated mornings. That hadn't changed. Out of everything that had shifted around her, she tried her hardest to retain some sense of herself. It was a surprisingly easy thing to accomplish. She thanked her much lamented stubbornness for that. She had a feeling that even Tenzin would be cheering her on.

"Your bath is ready, milady," the dark haired woman murmured, trying her best to sound unafraid.

"Ugh," Korra groaned, turning her face into her pillow and curling in on herself.

Baths. Twice a day. At first wake and directly before bed. Why did she need to stay so clean? It was as if they were trying to wash the Water Tribe out of her with milk water and rose scent. As if they were trying to soften her hard earned muscle from Pro-bending with lotions that smelled of fire lilies and musk. As if they could make her more like the ladies of the Fire Nation by soaking her in oils and dressing her up like a doll.

The first few times they had drawn her bath, they had had to force her in, like a cat, hissing and scratching. It was only a matter of seconds before her staff was running from the room crying because she had sent a vicious water whip their way. And when the head of her staff came in to berate her for her behavior she almost felt bad about it. _Almost._

She had tried to convince herself that she could get used to being babied. That she would grow to like the small staff that had been assigned to assist with her every need. That she wouldn't go insane from being confined again.

She lasted two days before encasing one of her older servants in a cage of earth when the woman tried to brush her hair into submission. The wary looks around the Palace became constant. The whispers burned her ears cherry red.

She learned to pick her battles. She learned the best ways to fight against the lack of control she was suffering. She found her weapons.

One last, stinking bath wouldn't hurt.

Today would be the day she reasserted her independence.

She ignored the fluffy white towel being offered to her as she stepped from the bath an hour later and instead water bended herself dry. Her servant scowled and chased after her as Korra walked purposely into her dressing quarters, paying no attention to her nudity. There was a lovely red confection hanging near the door. Another all too revealing two piece.

Servant number two, Satvi gasped when she entered, her jaw falling slack as she looked to the other servant, Mauza. Korra ignored them both as they began to whisper behind her back.

"So," Korra said, spinning on her heels and turning towards them. She crossed her arms over her chest and cocked one hip to the side. It was an intimidating stance, one she liked to use just before a match to unnerve her opponent.

"Are you two going to tell me where you've stowed my water tribe clothing or should I set the entire wardrobe on fire?" she asked, lighting a fire ball in her palm.

They gaped at her like fishes and Korra had to bite back a laugh.

"I could start with this one, right here," she taunted, holding her hand under her carefully chosen and displayed outfit for the day.

Piercing screams filled the air and Korra had only managed to count to _One, Southern-Water-Tribe, Two, Southern-Water-Tribe, Three, Southern-Water-Tribe, Four…_

She wasn't disappointed, as her head of staff, Mrs. Fontanzi Came careening through the door.

Korra was impressed. She had only ever known one person with the ability to turn that particular color of grape-ish puce.

Once again, she almost felt bad.

_Almost._

It was in the beautiful sky-and-ice-cap blues of her homeland that Korra met with her etiquette instructor for the morning. Her hair was in its typical wolfs tail and she had a wolfish smile to match. She was feeling more like herself already.

That morning it would be a lesson about table manners. She actually enjoyed those. If she messed up in the way she handled her chop sticks, in traditional Fire Nation style, or if she mistakenly grabbed the last dumpling for herself; her instructor would sigh and signal for more food to be delivered.

A well-fed-Korra was a happier Korra.

She was able to ride the wave of her own private victories until just after lunch when she returned to her room for meditation time. That was when the loneliness set in.

When she would ache so badly for to comfort of her friends, of their company. When all of the vibrato she had built up was ready to collapse around her, thwarted and suffocated by how much she missed them.

Asami, Bolin, and of course—Mako. Pema, Tenzin, and the kids. Lin and Tahno and all of the friends that she had made along the way. But most of all, in times like this, she missed her team.

If she closed her eyes she could see two pairs of green eyes staring at her, one the color of camphor leaves and the other of the palest mint. A sturdy rock of an earth bending boy with a child-like glee and love for the world that never seemed to fade. A tough cookie of a girl who never backed down from a fight, especially when it was for the rights of others.

A brooding, defensive man with ember eyes who took a while to warm up and let people in, but once a person had been accepted into his life, he would protect them fiercely.

She had tried, time and time again to write them letters but she never got past the greeting. There wasn't anything to say, they had already said their goodbyes. If she wrote to Mako, it would only hurt them both and she would be an anxious, nail biting mess, until he wrote back_. If he wrote back. _She wouldn't blame him if he never opened it.

If she addressed the note to Asami or Bolin her questions would only be a thinly veiled attempt to get information out of them about Mako. About how he is. Whether he's tried to move on. Whether he misses her.

It wouldn't be fair to any of them. The wounds were still too raw. So she gathered her strength on her own and wished them well. Hoping that they would understand why it was too hard to keep in touch. Hoping that they understood how difficult it was for her to do this alone, without them.

Hoping that they knew how much she missed them. Loved them.

Another day passed and then another. Orange skies fading to blue and then blood red with pink stratus clouds before night fall.

It wasn't all bad, the sunsets in the Fire Nation were breathtaking and the hot springs just outside of the main courtyard and gardens, down the hill and surrounded by black volcanic sand- were quite possibly the best thing in existence.

The days ran together until she didn't know what day it was anymore. Only what her agenda was.

Today was her bi-weekly meeting with Kazou and Almeiza. Her Water Tribe outfit was met without much fanfare and just a small sigh that seemed to say, _'What can you do with a girl like Korra?'_

In response to their unsaid words she simply grinned at them cheekily. They were learning to choose their battles too.

She had discovered Kazou's desire for an attentive student and had used it to her advantage. A well worded question, a hint at interest and he was a puddle of affectation. He was able to drone on and on, wax poetic about days gone by, the Fire Nation's history, Romantic heroes, and Feudalism.

When this would happen, Korra would twiddle her thumbs innocently while Almeiza glared daggers at her. The elder would then settle back into her chair, a challenging glint to her eye before she would close her eyes and take a nap. Korra envied her escape.

The five members of the Advisory Council were beginning to grow on her. Especially the two Elder members with her now. They reminded her of the elders of the Order, stuffy and crotchety but with a sweetness and humor that could only come with a matured sense of generativity.

They truly cared about their people and their Nation's place in an ever changing world. It made her like them, just a bit.

And when Kazou had one of his ancient tomes, from his private library delivered to her study and she smelled the unmistakable scent of leather and musty paper. She knew that she had begun to grow on them, as well.

With each small victory, Korra couldn't help but admit to herself that things were getting better.

Other things niggled at the back of her mind though. Like the fact that she hadn't seen Iroh again, in the nearly three weeks since his first arrival.

And that she had yet to have a formal audience with the now-former Fire Lady, Ursa. She only saw her in passing, wrapped in red and gold and always from a distance. She was surrounded by Royal Guard but even over the glint of their armour and thickness of their padding she could see into the circle and catch a glimpse of the woman they protected. She looked pale and drawn. Thin.

When she had asked Almeiza and Kazou about her, they had only said that she was ill and nothing more. The reservedness and caution in their tones told her that there was much more to it than they were willing to discuss with her right now.

She hated being left in the dark. She didn't have enough, behind the palace walls, to keep her mind occupied and she was coming up with all sorts of bizarre explanations for their withholding of information.

Or you know, the obvious bold faced lie that they seemed to be touting.

It was hard not to jump to conclusions, especially when all you had for entertainment were musty old books (Jinora's dream world), riling up your staff, and etiquette lessons.

What she needed most, right now, was a distraction.

A distraction arrived the next day after she had escaped from her gaggle of chaperones and staff.

She ran through the halls, using a ball of air to speed her forward. Her hair was whipping around her and she craned her neck to see the anxious faces of her followers. She whooped loudly, spinning into another corridor and nearly running over Mrs. Fontanzi.

"Sorry, excuse me. Avatar coming through!"

A scream of shock and a resolute, "That is _IT_!" followed her around the next corner and up a winding flight of stairs.

It was childish, she knew. Trying to run away from them and avoid her responsibilities for a while, but she needed to do _something._

She jumped from her air scooter, letting it ghost away into nothingness before studying her new surroundings.

She had never been up here before.

It was a long, cloistered stone walkway, with an open colonnade and big arching windows at one side. Light was playing in big yellow bows and arcs, shining against the gleaming, dark stone and glittering on the pagoda style roof that could be seen just above.

She stood in wonderment for a minute, her feet sliding forward as she stepped towards the open windows to see what lie beneath.

But when she heard the grunts of combat, the tell-tale guttural sounds of chi being manipulated, and the metal singing of swords sliding together she found herself running to the railing and leaning out as far as she could to see the action below.

In the level just below where she was standing was a courtyard, surrounded on all sides by the same cloistered walkways as she was standing on. There were resilient looking training dummies of all sorts and she could count at least four heavily laden weapon racks.

In the very center were sparing pairs, in full black and red armor. Their helmets were three pronged at the top and their faces covered. The elite Royal Procession. The Imperial Fire benders.

_The extremely disciplined Palace guards._ The men and women who protected the Royal Family at all cost and were trained in multiple styles of combat. Not to mention they were all also prodigious fire benders.

It took all of her strength of will to not jump down there right now, feel the earth break beneath her feet and challenge them all to a duel. She wasn't even sure that they would engage her, or if she could even provoke them into a fight. They had been sworn to protect the Royal Family and by extension, the Avatar who would be married into that same family. She sighed, a puff of air rustling her side swept bangs.

A clamor of feet chased her up the stairs and she was cornered.

She tried to look apologetic and contrite when her personal guard and Satvi, one of her younger servants, came upon her.

It didn't matter that they were going to lock her in her room until evening with only dusty tomes and her thoughts for company. She was too excited to care.

She had found the Royal Procession's training ground. And she _would_ be returning.

.

.

.

He entered the meeting hall resignedly. Today, he would be meeting with Kazou and Almeiza to discuss the upcoming coronation. When he arrived, he was surprised to see that they were already there and waiting.

"Iroh…" Almeiza walked over to him, her expression tender. She had always been like a grandmother or great aunt to him. His Grandma Mai and Almeiza had been good friends and when he would visit with his grandmother, Almeiza was often there. After his grandmother's passing, when he was just a young teen, the Councilwoman had still kept up the weekly tea meetings and chats with he and his sisters.

"Did you get taller?" she asked, wrapping her gnarled fingers around his arms and peering up at him.

"I'm 27 years old, Alme. I don't think I've grown taller," he deadpanned, his heels practically clicking together with formality. A sign of too many United Forces drills and too little time spent outside of that life for the greater part of ten years.

He greeted Kazou with a bow and handshake, before pulling out Almeiza's chair and taking his seat between them.

The three of them lapsed into easy conversation, discussing the upcoming ceremony and glossing over the affairs of state that would be further discussed at the next Council meeting with the Junior Advisors.

They went over the schedule of the Coronation Ceremony and which important people needed to be given special attention to at the event. Who had gained power and who had lost it. It wasn't until the flow of words had begun to ebb that Almeiza decided to say the words that she had obviously been saving up for_ just. the. right. moment._

"You've been avoiding her," she began and Iroh stiffened in his chair.

"I'm sorry, who are we speaking of?" he asked, cringing internally at how caustic he sounded.

The Councilwoman squinted at him, continuing to grind her tobacco leaves into a fine pulp, between her teeth.

"How many wives are you banking on having?" she retorted, a glint of humor and quirk of lips softening her admonition.

"I have been very busy, Almeiza."

"S'ok, no skin off my nose," to his left, Kazou was trying to subtly rub his temples.

Iroh attempted to reign himself in, he didn't owe anyone any explanations. Especially a Royal Advisor who he had known since he was in diapers and who was now giving him the smuggest expression he had ever seen.

_Do not give in, Iroh. _

Almeiza spit into her gold spittoon and cocked an eyebrow at him, "Two? Three? Will you be this courteous to them all or will the avoidance be reserved only for Korra."

_Stay strong. She's only being a pest. You don't owe her any-_

"Didn't peg a big ole' General like yourself for being afraid of the Avatar. Especially when the Avatar was all you ever talked about as boy. Remember Kazou? He was obs-"

_Damn it._

"I _have_ been busy, Alme. Since I've arrived I've been in endless meetings. I've debriefed the men and women of the United Forces on the current concerns for our world, now that I will no longer be in charge there. I've been meeting with the Fire Nation Military and figuring out what my duties will be with them after I am sworn in as Fire Lord and therefore, made their commander-in-chief. I've been pinched and prodded, suffered physical examinations and robe fittings.

And let's not forget what we are doing here, planning the coronation and being informed of everything that has been going on as of late," Iroh's chin was tilted high and his expression lofty as he finished.

"Mm," she was unimpressed.

It was as if he was a balloon and a pin had just broken the surface. He deflated, shoulders hunching almost imperceptibly and chin lowering until he was no longer puffed up and looking down his nose at her.

"How is she adjusting?" he rumbled out at last.

"Oh, that girl has fire. She'll be fine."

"I don't know how to deal with her," he admitted and immediately regretted it. He had been trained, all of his life to shield his fears and emotions. As both a Prince and a soldier. A General. The Avatar was thrown into his life again and all of a sudden he was forgetting himself.

"As a person or as your wife?" she pressed.

He scoffed.

"You are no longer at sea, you can't just go with the current and expect for things to go smoothly. You can't anticipate this and come up with a strategy. Korra is a storm that needs to be met head on. You will need to work together, whether you like it or not, to make this work."

"I am well aware," his tone was sour, his lips down turned into a pout.

"I do not envy your position, Iroh. I just hope that you_ recognize_ and _utilize_ the resources available to you."

"Is that what she is? A resource?" shocked outrage coated his words and it was too late to reel himself in.

The Elder Advisor smiled at him, as if he had given something away without realizing it.

"I guess that we shall see."

There was a knock at the door and a young man, in the full attire of the Fire Nation Domestic Forces came quickly into the room. He bowed curtly before taking hurried steps over to Iroh's side.

He murmured some quiet words to the Prince and handed him a missive before rushing back out. Iroh calmly broke the red seal and read the letter's contents, his eyebrows falling heavily into a scowl.

Korra and the issues of their future nuptials could be dealt with later.

There was another woman who he needed to see, _urgently._

.

He found her in her private garden, just outside of her chambers. It was a place for quietude and tea with close friends or family. She had taken up gardening after his father's death, a few years ago. At first it had just been something to keep her busy but it quickly evolved into an avid interest and hobby.

With the Royal Advisory Council assisting with managing the day-to-day affairs of the kingdom, Ursa had a lot of free time to dabble in various pursuits. This particular one had lasted the longest.

Right now, her peonies were in full bloom. Humongous pink flowers, overtaking the green in their bushes. There were Chrysanthemums and Orchids as well but the Peonies were by far, her favorite. They symbolized prosperity and honor.

Like her father, Ursa believed the latter to be of great importance. She believed strongly in honesty, fairness, and integrity in a person's beliefs and actions.

It was because of this, that Iroh had no doubt of his mother's innocence. She would never be more lenient in her judicial rulings against a bender than she would a non-bender. It went against her code of ethics. The same code that had been instilled in her and her siblings, by their parents, and that she had instilled in her own children.

"You've been avoiding me," she chided, her palms warm against his cheeks.

"I've been avoiding the world, Ma-ma."

She smiled at the affectionate use of his first name for her, only used now in times like this when they were alone and he came to her, troubled.

"Sit," she commanded and he did so quietly. She rang a little bell and asked for her staff to bring them some tea. It arrived after only a few moments, having already been prepared as soon as he broke the threshold to her rooms.

She served them both and then sat back against her seat. He took in her appearance for a moment while he lifted his tea to his brow in blessing before bringing it down to take a small sip, steam rushing over his skin.

She was pale and thin but not in bad health, in fact her face was flushed from being outside and she looked better than when he had first arrived, nearly a month ago. Her hair was pulled up loosely and twisted into a chignon. She no longer had to wear the traditional top knot and headpiece of the direct line of Fire Lord or Lady. She could afford to be more casual now, and the relaxation suited her. Even if the dark circles under her eyes did not.

"I know why you've decided to come today," she began.

"Aside from the fact that it was overdue?" his attempt to keep things light was waved away.

His mother was a woman of duty and convention. They could have idle chitchat later. It was a quality that he had always appreciated in her. She had never understood the desire to procrastinate on a problem, she preferred getting straight to the issue at hand.

"The riots," she offered.

"Yes," he confirmed, taking another sip of tea and waiting as she did the same.

"They're getting out of hand."

"The report said that the palace dockyard was attacked."

She nodded sorrowfully, "They are getting too close to us now, we need to decide a course of action."

"What would you have me do? Should we push back and try to suppress the insurgence? Risk a revolution?"

"I don't know, I wish I knew but…"

"Mother, I need to know what you aren't telling me."

She met his gaze and he could see the fear in those amber depths, the moisture gathering along her lash line.

"Ma-ma?"

His mother crumpled inward, curling into herself until she was something small and very un-Ursa-like. Then, once she had pulled her limbs in fully and made herself into a protective ball, she began to speak. Her body unfurling as she gained momentum with her story, as her words brought back the strong emotions that she had so carefully smothered down.

Her fury making her come alive, like a phoenix from the ashes.

"I've compromised our family's honor, Iroh. It is up to you to win it back," she finished and he stared. Gob smacked.

A near meditative silence fell over them like a blanket and it wasn't until the pinks and reds of the sunset were glowing on their hair and skin that they began the chit-chat that they had initially put off.

"Does she like her servants?" his mother asked between bites of the food that had been delivered to them. Skewered owl-pig meat in a hot curry and yogurt sauce, grape leaves stuffed with rice and spices, flat bread, and cheese.

"She sent them away," he answered, offering her the gossip that his own personal staff had been spreading around, "and they were happy to go," he couldn't keep the smile from his voice.

"_Happy to go_? They should feel honored to have been given the chance to serve her _at all_."

"Yes, well, she doesn't fit in here and she isn't what they are accustomed to. It upsets them when she tries to do something herself or asks for them to stop helping," he reasoned.

"Hm," she mused over a bite of cheese, "She needs a confidante. One of Honora's daughters would do."

"No, Lucretza and Zinnia?"

"What's wrong with one of your cousins being her lady in waiting?"

"Lady in—Mother, I don't think that you really understand the kind of person Korra is. She wouldn't be able to stand either of them for more than a week."

"Well, I suppose we could bring your sister's home from the Academy."

"While I agree that they would make a good friend to her, I think that they should stay at the Royal Academy for now. We may have to bring them home soon enough," _for their protection_, he mentally added.

"Then who do you suggest, Iroh?"

He thought heavily for a few minutes, but he had already known _exactly_ the _right_ girl as soon as his mother had brought it up.

"How old is Evren?" he tried to seem uninterested.

"_Iroh!" _She was scandalized, hand flying to her throat. "_Definitely not_," her scolding voice seemed to drop two octaves.

"I'm telling you, Mother. She would be good for Korra."

"No, _no_, that girl is too foolish; her head is full of dreams. Avatar Korra needs someone older who is familiar with court. Evren? You can't be serious."

"She's your niece!"

"By my no-good brother."

"Ma-Ma, please. How old is Evren now?"

"Thirteen this past summer," she answered reluctantly. Her lips pursed and gaze steady on her peonies. "She is too much like her grandmother, to prone to flights of fancy and—"

"Ty Lee was a great hero."

She harrumphed, nibbling at her cheese and taking a delicate sip of tea.

"_Fine._ But Hamza will be keeping close watch on their antics."

"Hamza?" His hand rose up to his head in a light smack, his fingers digging into his scalp. "Please tell me that you haven't been spying."

She patted her mouth with a napkin and tried to avoid his eye, when she stole a quick glance in his direction and saw the fire in his gaze she tossed her napkin down on the table, "Of course I have! I need to make sure that this will work.

The entire world will be watching Korra. If she seems off or unhappy they may come after the Fire Nation. My father did a great deal to bring honor back to our family and our people but there are still prejudices."

He knew the truth of her statement from his travels. Certain city ports were a lot less friendly to people who bore the facial characteristics and coloring of a person with Fire Nation heritage.

Mostly it was people his mother's age, who grew up with nightmarish tales from their parents and grandparents about the horrors of the Hundred year war.

He nodded his acceptance of her decision, even if he found it a bit underhanded. His mother was many great things but she was also clever and shrewd. A politic Head of State, born and raised.

"Until Evren's arrival, maybe I should speak with Korra. Try to win her trust," she began.

"I don't think that's a good idea mother. She holds a lot of resentment at her current situation. Maybe Almeiza could speak with her, in your stead. For now."

"Yes, you're right. I will speak with Almeiza in the morning."

.

He left his mother's company and made his way through the halls, ignoring the guards following at a distance and walking up a flight of stairs. He just needed somewhere quiet where he could think, somewhere that wasn't the confining square of his bedroom. When he needed to meditate on various matters while at sea he would simply go on deck and be soothed by the natural lullaby of the waves parting and crashing against the hull. He would watch the way the water crested in the distance or read the signs of the sky.

The sky could tell a sailor many secrets. The color of the sky at sunrise or sunset could reveal whether a storm would be on its way. The stars at night could reveal the current latitude and longitude with the use of a quadrant. They were better than any landmark and more reliable than a compass, the stars wouldn't _break _during a storm and they didn't require periodic calibration.

He made his way up to the shadowed walkways of the open colonnade. It was well into nighttime now and moonlight was brightening the arches with soft, white light.

The training grounds were closed this late at night and the walkways provided a clear view of the night sky and the bay just in the distance. He smiled up at the twinkling lights, hands folded behind his back as he traces the lines of the Pleiades with his eyes. Then over to Lyra and Draco. Polaris, the North star.

His view was interrupted by a yellow light racing upwards from the training ground in the courtyard below.

He looked down, trying to find its source and was startled but what he saw.

His eyebrows shot up to his hairline, his lips parted as he fought down a gasp and his breath caught in his throat. There was a strange constricting sensation taking over his ribs and a tightening over his chest.

_Korra._

She was training, practicing the detailed forms of the four elemental disciplines. He had seen her do many amazing things over the course of their short acquaintance during the battle for Republic City but he had never had the pleasure of seeing her like this.

Her movements were graceful and calm, no threat chasing at her heels to make them more violent and purposeful. No desperation to defend herself.

It was a dance; a flow of gestures, an evolution of steps from the most simple to the most complex.

Iroh watched as she let out all of her frustration at being cooped up, all of her rage and all of her sadness. The joy at being able to move like this again. He watched it all, greedily, taking in the expressions of emotion that flit over her face. The subtle language of her body as she worked through each one, meditatively.

He stood, transfixed. Held in thrall and completely captivated. She was _beautiful_, an ethereal creature bathed in moonlight. A warrior and all powerful spirit of harmony. A young girl, lost and hurting.

He felt shame over take him for his mishandling of their situation.

They'd been acting childishly. She was always trying to run away and he was always trying to hide. It was cowardly and against both of their natures.

They wouldn't be able to avoid each other forever.

And, as he watched her spinning life into the atmosphere, all of the elements at her will—he wasn't sure that he wanted to try to stay away anymore.

His gaze fell to his boots for a moment as he reflected on this thought.

Perhaps Almeiza was right. It was time to bring his ship to port, to disembark and explore the changing expanse of his future. He'd already charted the course and he could navigate these oncoming storms.

* * *

**A/N:** I've been using the Kubler-Ross model/5 Stages of grief as a loose outline for Korra's emotional journey in this story. She is grieving the end of her relationship with Mako and the life she left behind. She is grieving for all the dreams and hopes she had for the future that had seemed so possible and real but fell through her fingers. The 5 stages don't necessarily have to go in order but here is what we've seen so far: Denial would have been pre chapter 1, Depression was subtle in chapters 1 and 2, and Anger has been an obvious part of Ch 2 and 3. We have touched on bargaining here in chapter 4 with her desire to reach out to her old friends and keep them close. Acceptance is on the horizon, but the others will still rear up from time to time.

Honestly I feel like I could write this story forever, and I would have to in order to fit everything in that I would like, but I have to try to contain it or it will never be finished.

I'm trying not to do too much with OCs but there will be a couple, like Kazou and Almeiza, Evren and other royal family members who are there for the main characters to bounce off of and to help move the story along. Oh, Ursa. What have you been hiding?

Most of my Fire Nation info comes from the avatar wiki because dang, I can't remember all of that from A:tla.

Hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: I had a lot of trouble with this chapter. I couldn't get it just the way I wanted it and my confidence in it suffered as a result. Sorry that the update took so long! Not edited sorry for any mistakes.

* * *

'Wind has the ability to affect the other elements, if subtly. Wind, given time, can wear away earth, even the tallest mountain. Wind can spread fire, or whip it so that it blows the fire out just as a single breath can blow out a candle. Wind can affect water with surface waves and wind temperature can affect the water cycle, leading to rain.'

* * *

Chapter 5

She pushed her food around on her plate. This was quite possibly the most awkward dinner she had ever experienced.

Even more uncomfortable than that time all those years ago, when Tarrlok interrupted their meal at the Air Temple to ask her to join his Task Force. Even more awkward than dinner in Ba Sing Se with a Bear in attendance, the descendant of the esteemed Bosco, whom Bolin challenged to an eating contest.

This was worse, by far. Neither of them had even taken a bite of their meals. She was busily making a face out of her rice, pressing it into a ball with her fork. She had just started to add eyes, made out of olives, to the lump and a mouth out of some parsley when he spoke at last, breaking the silence that they had enshrouded themselves in.

"I never knew that the Avatar was such an artist," he offered and she could hear the smile in his voice.

"What can I say? It's a gift," she retorted and his eyes softened almost imperceptibly.

"Thank you, Avatar Korra."

"For what?" she asked, honestly surprised by his words and by the sincerity of his tone.

"For joining me for dinner tonight and for making an effort to…"

"Be civil in the face of our situation?" she finished for him, matter-of-factly.

"Something like that."

"We've both been immature," she admitted, allowing her head to hang forward and giving up on her sculpture.

"Yeah," he replied and it was such a simple, laid-back word. It was so unexpectedly out of character from what she was used to from him. She had only ever seen him in the line of duty in the past. As a cool-headed general shouting out orders and making strategies; Or as a man, using his titles to help bring in more money for the restoration of a post-war Republic City.

"Yeah," she murmured and her brow furrowed in perturbation as they returned to their uncomfortable silence.

Unsettling as it was, she still preferred the silence to empty questions and pointless banalities. If they didn't know how to interact then this quiet regard was much better than the alternative.

She sighed quietly and folded her hands in her lap. Dinner would be over soon and she could escape to the training ground. Escape to cicada songs with cricket accompaniment. To the roaring rush of water on rocks, just outside the palace walls. To the humid night air and the freedom to pretend that she was really free, even a little bit. Even at all.

.

.

.

_Three nights later_

As per usual, their dinner together ended just as awkwardly as it began. If he were a more intelligent man he would have cut his losses for the evening and returned to his quarters to soothe a wounded pride. Instead, he followed her; choosing to watch her in secret as he had for the last few weeks.

For a moment he was at peace, watching her dance and fight. Here, she was like a bird that had escaped its cage and flown to the highest tree only to sing out with joy. It was a stark contrast to the young woman who wandered the corridors during the day, traveling from lesson to lesson. A flower wilting in a beautiful vase. A bird trapped in a gilded cage. An Avatar sequestered away in a dark Palace.

Korra, for as much as she had struggled with her spiritual side in the past was, in his mind, more like air than any other element. She was fiery, for sure, and had a duality that water could only possess, she was steady like earth but…like air, she needed to be free. Whether it be as a roaring hurricane or a playful breeze. No door could hold her in, and no man could foretell in what direction she would flow.

There was a sudden heaviness in the atmosphere behind him, and Iroh knew that he was no longer alone in the dim light of the peristyle.

"She's here almost every night," the voice that spoke was as soft and deep as the night around them. Smooth as a shadow and as shady as its owner.

"Hamza," he acknowledged quietly, never turning to face the man standing at his back.

"And every night you are here in the shadows, watching her as if you were one of her guards. You should challenge her to a duel. It would be more exciting, at the very least."

"Did mother send you to spy on me as well, Hamza?"

There was a quiet chuckle and then a tap of boot on stone as the older man came to stand beside him. They stood shoulder to shoulder, bodies rigid like the well-trained soldiers that they were.

"Do you forgive me for the part I've played in all of this?" the man asked somberly.

"There is nothing to forgive. I understand the motivations for what you did."

Hamza looked out at the young woman training below, "Yes, I suppose you do. May I be as impertinent as to give you some advice?"

Iroh nodded, his eyes never leaving Korra as she spun a ball of air between her fingertips, as if she were playing with a ball of string, tugging and unwinding little puffs of cloud matter.

"Nothing will sprout from rocks, its best to first soften the garden with friendship. If you want to win her over to our cause then you will have to do more than peering from the shadows and sharing silent dinners. "

The prince could feel the sting of anger igniting under his skin; he quashed his eyes shut tightly, his face pulling into a frown. How he handled this situation was none of their business. His mother could try to control what little she had left from behind the scenes but in the end, her role here was done. They had set the stage for him and for Korra and _they_ would do the rest. On their own terms.

"Leave me," he commanded gruffly.

"Spoken like a true Prince of the Fire Nation. It is good to have you back, Iroh. I know that you will be able to atone for our mistakes."

"Leave," he hissed.

"As you wish," there was no steady pat of footsteps nor any swish of cloth as the Fire Lady's head of guard and trained spy left him alone in the dark hallway.

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.

.

Councilwoman Almeiza had started inviting Korra to her quarters in the East Wing of the Palace for afternoon tea, once a week. It was something to do, to break up the monotony of her days and the elder wasn't terrible company.

"Did you enjoy dinner with Prince Iroh again last night?"

"It was…pleasant enough," she answered politely.

"You didn't speak a word to each other the entire time, did you?"

"Nope!" _Not anything of importance, at least_

Almeiza smiled congenially, "Let me tell you about what Iroh was like as a child. I promise not to put you to sleep like Kazou does," she added with a wink.

"Was he always the proper, stuffy little Prince and General?" Korra teased.

"Not at all. Iroh was an extremely spirited child, always off trying to have adventures, never doing what he was told. Taking risks that drove the guards mad and made his parents cringe. He would sneak away into the city at night and return the next day with a broken arm and red scratches all over. His parents never had very much time for him and he spent much of his time with his younger sisters, teachers, and grandparents," she poured herself another cup of tea, her hands shaking around the porcelain and causing it to clatter together with little tinkling sounds. She placed the tea pot back onto its tray and rubbed at her knobby knuckles, loosening the age swollen joints.

"This became especially true after his father's death; Ursa was heavily depressed for a long time and spent the majority of her time working. Her children were grieving their father's death, as well, but Ursa was in so much pain that she couldn't see how much they truly needed their mother. She became distant towards them, as a result. For many years. It was during this time that things began to change," she paused, raising her teacup to her brow and then lowering it to her lips and taking a sip.

"I believe that it was because he didn't want to cause her more trouble, that Iroh became so disciplined. He focused on his studies and on his training in fire bending and as soon as he was old enough to make his own decisions, he left the palace behind and joined the United Forces. This isn't to say that his relationship with Ursa isn't a good one, Iroh is very devoted to his family and their wellbeing and happiness."

Korra listened quietly, a strange feeling stoking in the fires of her mind, a synaptic connection that stung all the way down into her heart and landed in the pit of her stomach. _Empathy_.

She could very easily put herself into a younger Iroh's shoes. Like him, she had left her home the first chance she had, trying to seize her own destiny. She had rebelled against her authorities and been unable to spend as much time with her parents as she would have liked- Sometimes having to be separated from them for weeks or months at a time, due to her training.

She wondered if he was as lonely as she had been as a child. Even with his sisters around. Korra knew what it was like to feel lonely while surrounded by people, to feel misunderstood and singled out as a person of importance. It wasn't something that she would wish on anyone.

.

.

Almeiza watched the younger woman as she left, lost in thought. She grinned to herself and stuffed a few leaves of dried tobacco into the pocket of her cheek. When Ursa had come to her, asking her to befriend the young Avatar and gain her trust it had seemed like it would be just another tedious chore.

But, it was amusing to watch the young prince and his future wife dance around each other. And, if she planned her week out well she was able to have tea with Korra one day and Iroh another. After all, there were two sides to every story and it was only fair that she hear both. It was important to be thorough in these types of matters.

She was only doing her duty to create a bright future for the Fire Nation, and a little matchmaking never hurt anyone, anyway. A whispered word here, a stretch of the truth there and the future Monarchs of the Fire Nation wouldn't even have to pretend to play the part of a happy couple.

_If only it were that easy._

.

.

Tea with Iroh came two days later. His schedule was becoming more difficult to work around for their weekly tea meeting. The coronation would be in only a few weeks and it seemed that the whole Palace was on edge, aside from Korra who drifted through her days, blissfully unaware of how crucial the days ahead would be. It was better that way.

She smiled at Iroh as he poured their Spiced tea. It was a special blend created for the Royal family that had been cultivated from the gardens surrounding the Palace years ago. It was sweet, from palm and coconut sugars, with hints of licorice, mint and lemon grass. A pinch of turmeric helped with the color. Fennel, ginger, and green cardamom pods rounded out the base, creating a rich and robust flavor.

He set her tea in front of her and poured his own while he spoke, "Hamza came to see me the other night."

"Oh?" she sputtered. She had never much cared for the Fire Lady's Head of Guard. Now, after everything had come to light, she spared no occasion to revile him. "What did that nosy little snake want?"

Iroh didn't even bat an eyelash at her words, "He seems to think that I'm not doing enough to endear myself to Korra."

"Are you?" he didn't reply, only sipped his tea quietly. "You know I was just having tea with Korra two days ago, as a matter of fact," she added slyly.

Almeiza watched him shift in his seat, at war with himself. It was obvious that he wanted to ask about what the two had spoken of but his need to appear proper and polite was at ends with this desire.

"We spoke about you quite a bit, in fact," she mentioned casually, smirking at the young Prince when he scowled at her, realizing that she wasn't going to offer up any other information.

"And?" he ground out between his teeth.

"And she did seem a little confused by how little you've been interacting with her."

"Really?" he asked disbelievingly, one eyebrow shooting up to his hairline.

"You don't believe me? Then I won't tell you about all of the embarrassing stories I told her about you. Like how you used to cry while looking at the turtle ducks and the time that you—"

"_Alme!"_

.

.

.

_One week later_

She was there again, muscles straining in her back and rippling behind her shoulder blades as she jabbed at the training dummy with a fire coated fist. There was a stream of brilliant red and then a cascade of sparks as her attack sliced into the metal armor covering her motionless opponent.

He could see sweat sliding over her skin and dampening the roots of her hair. Her usually side swept bangs were slicked back against her head, revealing the full beauty of her face, twisted in concentration and exertion.

Iroh had known that she would be there again tonight; he had been coming to the training area every night since his first time stumbling upon her night time exercises. Watching silently and learning the lines of her body, the strength of her.

As much as he hated to admit it, Hamza and Almeiza had been right. It did no good to just sit in silence by her side, only short exchanges of words shared between them. Watching her and not interacting with her would do nothing to broach the distance between them. They couldn't stand on opposite ends of a bridge and expect to still be able to meet in the middle. One of them would have to start moving in the right direction.

_So,_ he decided, _tonight would be different_. Instead of climbing the stairs to the colonnade and watching her from above, he would meet her on equal ground. He would cross the bridge and hope that it didn't break away under him. _How is it that she is able to make me feel so uncertain?_

His feet clacked against the ground, echoing against the stones, and he did nothing to cover the sound as he approached. He watched her movements, witnessing the way her spine tightened as she became aware of his presence.

"Your opponent isn't putting up much of a fight," he offered as she landed a quick side kick to the dummy.

"Where are your sentries? I'm surprised they let their prince out alone at night."

He scoffed, "They're around. As are yours. You didn't really believe that you've been out here alone on these nights, did you?"

"No, I'm still aware of my position." She turned towards him, wiping her brow on her hand guard, "Why are you here?"

"I figured that you could use a challenge, and so could I. Fighting a pro-bending star who also happens to be the Avatar? I can't turn away from that kind of opportunity," he smiled quietly and she studied him for a moment before a grin of defiance alighted upon her features.

"Well then. Bring it on, General." She taunted, her feet sliding into a front stance.

His heart was pounding with excitement and he couldn't take the time to examine why, couldn't fathom the need he felt to win against her. To dominate her and be dominated by her. His skin was tingling, fire stirring at his fingertips.

"I'll take it easy on you," he threw at her and her head shot up in surprise.

"Easy on _me?"_ she dodged a ball of fire that came spiraling toward her. "Hey!"

He laughed, "Come on, Avatar. Let's play."

She growled lowly in her throat, "Fine."

Korra fell back as another rush of hot fire came flying in her direction, she kicked up onto her heels, thrusting upward with her fist as he darted toward her. He spun just out of range of her water whip and rolled along the ground before jutting out his hands and sending a fan of blue flames at her feet.

The Avatar jumped, both legs kicked out to her sides as she called a ball of air to her aid, blowing out the flames and keeping her afloat.

She fell back to the stone floor, landing gracefully on her feet, arms stretched behind her back. He dance closer, jabbing at her with a fist and following up with a ridge hand. She curled her fingers, pulling at the earth beneath his feet and he leapt at her, tugging at one of her front ponytails as he passed and pulling the bead loose. Korra shifted her feet, glaring at him as he tossed the bead in her direction.

It clattered to the ground, ignored, as she charged him, water droplets glittering at her fingertips. She slashed at him, icicle spears pressing upon him. He sucked in a quick breath and then let it out, burning the air and melting the approaching onslaught.

She was close enough to touch, chest heaving and covered in sweat that soaked though her water tribe shirt. He bounced on the balls of his feet, weaving out of her reach as she fell back into an offensive stance.

"You know, I appreciate your fighting style. You move like a well-trained athlete. I can see that you've combined the styles that you were trained in," he panted, spinning away from her so that he was behind her back. She retaliated with a back spinning hook kick, connecting hollowly with his rib cage.

"And you? What is your fighting style? I wouldn't expect such petty tricks to come out of a well-respected General." She ground out, between her teeth and Iroh smiled, his dimples standing out in full relief. She was getting annoyed with him. _How is this for interaction, Avatar?_

"We don't have pro-bending in the Fire Nation, but we do have street fights and Fire-boxing. I went through a rather rebellious phase in my youth."

"Rebellious? _You?_ I always thought that you were Mr. Cautious-and-by-the-Rules," her words came out in a rush as he swept her feet out from under her, pinning her to the ground.

She kicked out at him, and he pushed a knee between her thighs, holding her hands above her head and using his weight to keep her still.

"Yield?"

He could see the anger in her expression and the exhaustion in her frame. She had been training for quite some time before they began sparring and her stamina was suffering. A muscle ticked in her jaw as she nodded her defeat.

"I think that you need to get to know me a bit better before you start tossing around nicknames," he joked, peering down at her.

She was beautiful. Skin the color of fine, well-steeped black tea with just a dash of milk. Her face was long and round with a strong jaw that came to the most delicate point at her chin. Blackberry lips and a cherry tongue that he could see peeking through her open mouth. Pure, oceanic eyes and long dusky lashes.

He felt as if he could melt into her but as he searched her face he could only see an icy cold reflected back at him. He was strongly attracted to her, but her eyes and body language communicated that she wasn't similarly affected. She didn't want him at all. She looked as if she wanted nothing more than to be away from him at that moment. To repel and rebuff; the exact opposite of the magnetic pull that he was feeling. She looked like a rabbit-deer caught in the headlights of a Sato-mobile. Her blue eyes were wide and her lashes were damp with the beginning of tears.

His heart thumped loudly and there was a tearing sensation just over his breast, like claws cutting into the skin of an over ripe peach. A terrible ache for _something _was building in his abdomen. He'd never felt so intrinsically drawn to anyone before and the tense lock of her being was cutting.

He closed his eyes tightly and sat back on his haunches as she sat up, pulling her knees into her chest.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah. You just-," she shook her head and Iroh watched as she pushed herself up to stand.

"Did I hurt you?" he worried, rising to stand at her side.

"No. It's nothing. I'm just going to turn in for the night."

"I'll walk you."

"I'd really rather go alone, if you don't mind," she murmured timidly, her arms were wrapped around herself and she was rubbing at her elbows with her hands. "The sentries will watch out for me," she added placatingly.

"If you're sure…"

She nodded quietly, "Goodnight, Prince Iroh."

"Goodnight," He replied woodenly. He hated how well he liked the way his name sounded coming from her lips, even in an instance such as this.

He watched as she disappeared through the peristyle and out into the gardens just beyond, where green leaves had turned deep blue in the moonlight. Fog had begun to roll in from the bay and it created a glow around her as she walked into the purple expanse of the night, being swallowed by the darkness. He watched her until he couldn't see any more sign of her, until orange light spilled as a dot in the distance, spearing through the fog and then being snuffed out as she walked inside the palace, closing the door behind her.

Long minutes passed where his mind was completely blank and then sounds began to pour back into his consciousness. Frog songs and Cicada hymns. He came back to himself with a jolt.

_I'm completely infatuated, aren't I?_

_Damnit._

.

.

Korra pulled back the cool white sheets and slipped her legs underneath before curling around her pillow and hugging it to her chest.

"_Are you alright?" _

"_Yeah. You just-," _snippets of conversation came back to her mind and she punched the mattress in frustration.

_You just reminded me of someone._

It was almost cruel that Iroh was so similar in coloring and height to Mako. She imagined that it would be easier if the man she was going to be entering into marriage with were a short, fat, muddy eyed non-bender. Perhaps then she wouldn't feel so confused when being pinned down by eyes just a shade more golden than the amber ones she had once liked to drown in.

Besides any physical similarities, they were two very different men. From the way they carried themselves, to the way they spoke, handled situations, and down to their senses of humor. But the difference between them was perhaps most apparent in the way they sparred.

With Mako, Korra had always felt like they were able to move in tandem. They made a good team, in and out of the ring. She could anticipate his moves and he was able to intuitively know what she was thinking during a fight. They saw openings at the same time and would align themselves into the best line of offense or defense during a match. When fighting each other it was more of a dance, an arm raised was immediately met with another arm in a block. They were in tune with each other, like the prongs of a tuning fork. They were on the same frequency, constant and definite.

Iroh was difficult to read. As a person and as a fighting partner. He lunged when she expected him to feint and met offense with offense instead of waiting and defending. There was a strategic twist to his moves and the his eyes seemed to take everything in at once. It was as if he had been studying her style and knew it well. As if he could read her somehow and could immediately pinpoint a weak spot.

She knew that he was well trained but this was ridiculous. His conjured flames were hotter than she was used to and the most brilliant blue she had ever seen. She felt, once again, like she was looking at a new fighting style. It was the same way she felt when she had seen her first Pro-bending match. She hated that Iroh was able to impress her. It pissed her off even more that he had gotten the better of her.

_But the way he had looked at her…_She sighed, brushing the thought aside and snuggling deeper into her pillows. _It reminded her of _him_._

The last thought she had, before falling into a dreamless sleep, was about Fire Boxing and men who were too overconfident for their own good.

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.

.

The servant stood in front of her with an emotionless expression, a gold tray held in his hand and only a single envelope seated in the center. She lifted the missive with a quiet 'Thank you' before unfolding the envelope and sliding out the message. His hand writing was harshly slanted with the decorative strokes that only a person trained in calligraphy would be able to write. Fine little lines with no blotch of ink to sully its perfection. Somehow, the writing suited him. The letter itself was short, succinct, and to the point.

_I would be delighted if you would join me for dinner tonight. -Iroh_

The servant waited calmly for her response and she cringed. It wasn't as if she could get away with saying no. She gave a small nod of assent and received a bow in recognition before he left the same way he had come.

.

When she returned to her room later that afternoon to prepare for dinner it was to find that once again, even though she had dismissed her staff, the linens and towels had been changed. There were fresh flowers in the vases and sweet fruits stacked into the bowl on her table. The stealthy service was creepy but it was a far cry better than having someone brush your hair for you or help you get dressed.

There was something new today, too. On the bed there had been a dress laid out for her. It was blue and old, modest and familiar. The dress that her mother had once owned and that she had packed for Korra when she left for the city. _'Just in case.'_

She fingered the material, soft and familiar, the color still vivid even after being worn by her mother for many years and then paraded by Korra at various events around Republic City. There was a heavy feeling in her stomach and she pulled the dress to her face until it surrounded her senses. The feeling was overwhelming. She was homesick.

Homesick and tired and sad, but strangely…not unhappy. She had fallen into a routine here over the last three months and it wasn't as stifling as it once was.

Somehow, without realizing it, the Palace had become familiar to her. It wasn't her ideal place to be but it was no longer abhorrent to her. She smiled, breathing in the blue dress with white piping and cheongsam collar once more before shirking off her clothing and slipping into the all too familiar garment.

When she was fully dressed and ready she went to the door, opening it slowly and entering the hallway where one of Iroh's servants was waiting for her.

"This way, please, Avatar Korra."

She followed him down the dark hallways with their black columns and red paint, the decorative sconces adding a circle of orange light every few steps. It was only just after five o'clock but here, in the beginning months of winter, sunset was already waning. In the Fire Nation winter was more of a word than an experience. Just an indicator of time in the cycle of the seasons but nothing more. There was no snow to fall and the trees did not change like their deciduous counterparts that lived farther north. Here everything stayed as warm and green as always. It was the polar opposite to the Southern Water Tribe where a blanket of snow was waiting for you every morning. Where your boots had to be re-waterproofed every few days and where clearing the path from your home was just an everyday part of life. It was so starkly different. Back home they would be preparing for the twenty four hours of dark that accompanied this time of year. It was a time of celebrations and rituals. Good food and storytelling.

She shook her head to rid herself of these thoughts. She had left the South Pole a long time ago and had only visited a few times since. Why was she getting so mopey now? For the last few months her sorrow had revolved around her leaving of Republic City but now…_I miss you, Mom and Dad._

They had been writing to her every few weeks but she hadn't taken the time recently to write back. She decided to resolve that after dinner.

The large carved door to the private dining room loomed before them. Two servants were already waiting to hold the doors open for her when she arrived and with an uncomfortable nod of gratitude she entered.

It was the same dining room that had eaten in previously that week. It was small but well decorated and offered a warm atmosphere that was different from the majority of the palace. It was reserved only for special meetings or for use by the royal family. Almeiza had said that it had once been one of Mai's favorite rooms and that she had painted it in the creams and golds and russet reds of Ember Island, where she first was able to express herself.

Iroh was already there, standing by a chair that she knew to be hers and waiting to help her sit. Korra was never one to understand the importance of acting like a gentleman or a lady, and even now after weeks upon weeks of a team of teachers grooming her to be the next Fire Lady, she still couldn't understand why it was so important.

She considered running around to the other table setting and stealing his seat just to tease him, but thought better of it. It would seem too familiar and too immature, and she wanted to show that she was putting in her best effort. This wasn't what either of them had chosen, and after her first few weeks she had decided to stop pinning all of her anger on the man who was to be her husband.

It was probably for the better that they had spent those weeks avoiding each other. It gave her time to reflect and win back her sense of self, no one decided her destiny but_ her_. She would do so proudly, with the best intentions, as Korra and as the Avatar. She would make them all proud.

Her fingers knotted into the fabric of her dress as she stepped towards him and allowed him to pull out her chair for her.

He sat down woodenly across from her and wiped his palms on the legs of his pants, under the table. She frowned slightly and shrugged.

"You look lovely, Avatar Korra."

"Thank you," she returned, her head turning to the side as she eyed the heavy trays being carried over to their table. She hadn't realized how hungry she was before this smiled politely as a bowl of carrot colored soup was placed before her. It was sour and spicy but not overly hot with the distinct flavors of chili pepper and lime juice.

They ate in silence, only parting their lips to draw the warm soup into their mouths from their spoons.

It was when the bowls had been taken away and the second course had been placed in front of her, that Korra began to feel nervous. Not because of the company or the situation but because, _seriously, what is that?_

The food was unrecognizable to her, it was minced meat of some type, slathered in a deep red-brown sauce. It looked, frankly, like mud. There were even little twig-like things scattered about. Gommu's street gruel had looked more appetizing. The side dish was some type of greenish pink leafy vegetable that she couldn't immediately identify and there was white rice, perfectly rounded in a china bowl, set just beside the main plate. It smelled strongly of cabbage and hot spices.

She was used to spices from living in the Water Tribe, often certain spices would be used to help preserve or dry the food for later consumption. But the Fire Nation was known for its love of fiery food. Just by its smell, she could tell which category this particular dish belonged in. Her nose was twitching and her eyes watering. _What could it taste like?_

She risked a surreptitious glance to her host and saw that he had already dug in, chop sticks carefully working through the mess and lifting it to his mouth. She watched him eat for a moment, wondering if this was some type of test. The Prince didn't even seem fazed by the heat of the dish, in fact it looked like he was enjoying it.

Her bottom lip was tugged down into a curious pout as she carefully pinched a bit of her food between her chop sticks and shoveled it into her mouth.

.

.

Iroh was startled as Korra shot up in her chair, hands gripping her glass of water tightly and she gulped it down. She slammed it back on the table, what little liquid was left sloshing against the sides as she scraped at her tongue with her fingers.

"Ahhhh!" she groaned in agony, her tongue sticking past her lips as she panted. "Too hot!"

His mouth opened in a quiet laugh that hinted at his surprise before he was able to regain his composure.

"What the hell is that?" she demanded, still tugging at her tongue. Her lips were swollen and red from the spices and he had to tear his eyes away from her to answer.

"It's Vindaloo Pork-Snake with BhutJolokia and Sichuan peppers and a side of Kimchi and rice with chili pepper paste. One of Pazkeel's favorite dishes to make for me," he calmly replied, reminding her with shielded words that she was being rude.

Her eyes grew wide and he stared at her coolly, "I thought that you'd be used to our spices by now."

"I haven't had anything like this. This is way spicier than anything they've served me so far," she defended.

"They think that I've missed it, while away, and tend to make my meals extra spicy for me. I guess you got caught in the cross fire."

"Lucky me," she scowled and he couldn't conceal the smile that bloomed on his face any longer.

"Not a big fan of our food, here, I gather? Pazkeel will be so heartbroken to hear it. I'm sure that the other kitchen staff are making him aware right now."

"I didn't mean to sound rude," she growled, not liking the teasing tone of his voice.

"I'm afraid that the only way to make up for this is to finish your plate. Otherwise I will be forced to fire our cook who has been here for over thirty years."

"Oh shove it. I am not eating this and you won't fire him," she called his bluff, choosing to take a bite of plain white rice instead.

"You sound confident."

"Well, you want to keep me happy, right?" she asked slyly, her eyes peering at him from the side.

His heart started to race and he convinced himself that he was startled by her blunt and astute observation. _Which was true._ And that it wasn't at all because of how alluring that sneaky expression was.

His visage was as composed as he could manage, not at all betraying the vicious drum song playing behind his ribs. He focused back on his meal, ignoring her as he took a large bite of Kimchi, making a point of savoring it, a dare in his actions. The word 'coward' hanging in the air between them.

Korra scoffed, crossing her arms and determinedly deciding not to rise to that bait. Her chin was jutted forward and he was reminded of their initial re-acquaintance in the meeting room after he first arrived home.

He decided not to push his luck.

"Alright, you bear a distinct disliking for Vindaloo Pork-Snake, noted."

She nodded stubbornly and he felt the sudden need to disarm her and bring her out of her suddenly surly mood. This time, the right question clicked directly into place.

"What foods do you prefer?"

"Here? or overall?"

"Overall."

Her face scrunched up in concentration for a moment. "Steamed fish and seaweed noodles, definitely."

"Water Tribe food."

"Oh man, it's my favorite. That and Sea prune stew and seal jerky. Oh, and Pema's dumplings, with the little lentils, onions, and potatoes stuffed inside. But nothing beats fresh caught steamed fish."

"Did you do your own fishing?"

"All the time with my dad. When Naga got bigger she liked to help out too."

"Did you have big fishing boats?"

"Ah, no. More like canoes. Probably very different from the type of ships you're used to."

"Yes, ours have...well, engines for one," he stated and she grinned.

"Most of time though we would just fish through the ice. My father built a little fishing shed and we'd huddle inside and wait. I was always impatient so I would try to water bend a fish to the surface as soon as I saw one."

He could easily imagine a younger Korra, hunched over a circle of ice, the fur lining of her hood brushing the cold reddened skin of her face.

"What's your father like?"

"Strong," he could hear the pride in her voice. "My dad has always been this _force, _you know? He has a way of figuring out how things work and making them better than before. He sees a problem and he just, knows how to fix it. Whether it's with people or with things, he designed a new trap to catch arctic hares one year, it was a really harsh winter but we had so much stored meat that no one even got close to going hungry. He's a top notch hunter. He looks like a grizzly bear but he's really generous and warmhearted."

"And your mother?"

"Gentle, but fierce too, Dad always says that I get my stubbornness from her," her eyes softened and she began to smooth down the fabric of her blue dress. There was a faraway look in her eyes that worried him.

She had been right. It was extremely important to him that Korra was happy here. Not just because the rest of the world would be watching, as his mother had pointed out, but because he felt that he owed it to her. A debt unpaid, with only more stacking up between them as time went on.

She had saved his life once, I the middle of a war where he lost nearly his entire fleet. And there was a scar on his left arm to remind him, daily, of that fact.

She had been like an angel to him perhaps A Nereid, one of the goddesses of the sea that worked as a patron saintfor sailors. He had heard sea faring tales of men being saved from their doom while at sea by of the wondrous nymphs, but they had never been more than stories told to pass the time while traveling.

It wasn't a fair comparison.

Korra was so much more than that. She was astonishing. The elements personified. She carried the burden of the world on her shoulders, even while the _spirit _of the planet lived inside of her, filling her with purpose and life. The Avatar. A mystic bodhisattva of compassion and peace, come to experience life in a human vessel and impart the wisdom gained.

He remembered hearing stories of Aang's time as the avatar, how he single handedly ended the one hundred year war after overcoming great personal strife. All while he was still just a child. His grandfather's adventures and his friendship with Aang had been his earliest bedtime stories. Stories of heroism, loyalty, honor, and love. He decided then that someday he would find the Avatar and have his own adventures.

When he was ten he learned that the new incarnation had been found. A girl, born to the same tribe as Master Katara. He wondered what she was like. Had dreamed of her. Imagined how she would look and act, what kind of adventures she would have and at times, when his lessons were particularly stressful and the weight of his burdens became too much, he would wonder if she found her destiny as suffocating as he found his own. He wondered if he could run away to the South Pole, find her and run away together. Try to save the world. Like the superhero comics that were becoming so popular in the capital. Boyish dreams, the aspirations of a child.

Korra in reality was very different from his youthful idealistic fantasies but in some ways, he had been spot on.

She _was_ beautiful, brave, and selfless.

"What about you? What is your mother like? I've only ever met her once and I know that she has been ill lately."

She seemed genuinely curious and concerned but he knew that she must feel some sentiments of anger towards the Fire was because of his mother that they were in this mess to begin with, forced into a loveless marriage with an old acquaintance and ally. With a person that they really knew very little.

Korra's feelings of martyr-like sacrifice were obvious to anyone who had eyes. Their upcoming nuptials were as undesirable for her as becoming Fire Lord was for him.

It was a role that he had never wanted, political wife or no.

But both were expected of him… and the truth was that he wasn't completely averse to marrying Korra. As political marriages went he could have scored _much_ worse.

It was just that the circumstances weren't ideal. And she was once again, risking herself to save him , to save his family and their Nation. To foster the continued peace between their people and the other Nations.

He knew that he could never repay these debts, but his sense of honor dictated that he should try.

Try to deserve her kindness and the weight of her sacrifice. He wasn't ignorant or naïve enough to believe that she had agreed to this arrangement for _him_. Or even for his family. It was for the people. Avatar Korra was marrying into the Fire Nation Royal Family, to help make concrete all of the earlier efforts of Aang and Zuko. Their friendship was legendary and they had done much, but Korra was able to bind herself to their cause, body and soul.

In a way, she was paying reparations for the mistakes of many men and women who died long before she was born. The long lingering effects of a hundred year war.

He wondered if she felt any bitterness to his family line for the near annihilation of her people. If she had ancestors who had died, fighting against Ozai's forces. It made his heart ache.

"My mother? She's…," _Shrewd_, he thought, _Loving and loyal and implacable._

"…A contradiction," he finished.

They lapsed back into silence and Iroh was lost in his musings, lamenting the end to their short but easy communication.

A brief respite occurred when desert arrived, Fire cake surrounded by round lychee fruits in a sweet syrup. He watched Korra eat it happily and he breathed out in relief, remembering awkward dinners where she wouldn't even attempt to touch her food other than to play with it. It seemed, he hoped, that things were improving. He looked down to his plate, slicing into one of the lychee's with his fork, missing the way her eyes trailed to his movements.

"Can you tell me more about Fire Boxing?" The question came out as a rush and Iroh chuckled in surprise.

"And give you the information that would win you the upper hand in any future fights?"

"Pfft," she rolled her eyes, buzzing her lips together comically, "You know that I went easy on you right?"

He couldn't hold back the grin that was rapidly spreading across his face. Even if it was only growing out of forced circumstance and acquaintance, a friendship between them might not be impossible after all. And if that was the case then…maybe, after the garden was softened with friendship, love could begin to bloom.

.

.

* * *

And I, I wanted to curl up beside you

And die, at least for an hour or more

Depending on how you react

Depending on how you respond to me

I'll stick around

~Stabilo - Kidding ourselves

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**A/N:** Read and Review please! I write for enjoyment but I post for feedback so slap it on me!


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Oh Geez! I am so sorry this update took so long! I have been very busy with work and preparing to return to Uni in a few weeks but I'm still here, I promise! I'm cutting this chapter a bit shorter just to get it out there. Sorry for the wait and I hope you enjoy!

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"I used to think this scar marked me - the mark of the banished prince, cursed to chase the Avatar forever. But lately, I've realized I'm free to determine my own destiny, even if I'll never be free of my mark."

— Zuko

…

"Hold still," she murmured, pressing the orb of water over his cheek in small soothing circles.

He was looking up at her, studying each line of her face from the downward bow of her lips to the wrinkle of concentration etched into her brow. She could feel each and every tick of his gaze as it blazed over her visage. It made her feel anxious, the way he stared until her skin was left stinging and hot like a sunburn.

"I'm sorry."

"I thought that I told you to stop apologizing," he reminded, grimacing when she passed over the burn on his jaw again. "Trust me, I've had worse."

She nodded, biting her lip to keep from apologizing again when he hissed out in pain. "Almost done."

Iroh had been showing her fire boxing moves when she had impulsively decided to try one out on him, expecting him to block or dodge but catching him unaware, instead. She found fire boxing fascinating. It was more open ended than Pro-bending with fewer rules. It was a true contest of strength, reflexes, and endurance. With multiple three-minute rounds and points awarded based on punches that connect, defense, and knockdowns.

Lightly padded fingerless gloves were used but no other padding or safety gear. It was primal. Korra found the singular focus that it required almost meditative. When fighting like that it was easy to become completely lost in the moment and intoxicated by the rush of adrenalin. The goal was a complete knockout, but it was hard-earned. Fire could be used to distract and intimidate but direct holds with fire or hitting below the belt, or trying to light the opponents clothes were all against the rules. Strategy was a big part as well, with each fighter having his or her own style. Like pro-bending it was a physical and mental sport. Each opponent having to devise the best way to approach a given stance or situation.

Iroh had been helping her to improve her uppercut punch when she had stupidly charged him and attacked, fire in hand. _Idiot. _

She cringed, angry at herself for getting too overexcited; she went to pull some fresh water from the basin when long fingers circled her wrist, stilling her movements. She looked down into deep golden eyes and blushed at the expression that greeted her; it was as if he was trying to look _into _her. So intense that she felt like she was being rubbed raw and left tingling. She hated when he looked at her like that.

"Korra…"

"D-does it still hurt? I can do one more pass," she stammered, wondering why she felt so skittish all of a sudden.

"No, its fine, now. Thank you," he reassured her, his fingertips slipping over the soft skin on the inside of her wrist before letting her go and standing from his seat. "Actually, there's something I need to ask you."

She breathed out in relief, glad to have 'rigid' Iroh back in place instead of the man who looked at her with such a profoundly soft and open expression. She was beginning to think that there were many different Iroh's instead of just one. There was the rigid, controlled, and commanding Iroh who seemed to appear most often. Then there was friendly-banter Iroh who liked a challenge and was a bit incorrigible. But the most recent Iroh was this one. The one who looked at her so strangely, as if he was waiting to see something in her expression or behavior and then was constantly disappointed to find it lacking. This side of him seemed a bit more melancholy and would often be quickly swept away by rigid Iroh before she could even begin to try to dissect what thoughts could be behind that look of disappointment.

"What is it?" she asked, rolling her shoulders that had become stiff from their healing session.

"My cousin will be arriving in a few days. It will be her first time at the palace in a few years and I was hoping that you could keep her company and show her around when she arrives."

"Of course, I'd be happy to."

Iroh nodded at her over his shoulder, his back to her as if he were already walking away, "Thank you. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to head back first."

Korra frowned in confusion; usually they would walk back through the gardens together after a sparring match. "Alright," she said as he moved away from her.

"Hey-Iroh…"

"Hm?" he turned back towards her expectantly and she looked at him searchingly. She sighed, blue eyes darting away and falling to the side.

"It's Nothing. Never mind."

.

.

.

Iroh's cousin, Evren was a handful.

Upon her arrival, the energetic girl had honed in on Korra immediately, not even waiting to be properly introduced before she had thrown her skinny arms around the older girl's waist.

"Avatar Korra!" she had exclaimed, brown eyes wide behind round rimmed spectacles.

"_Evren!"_ an elderly man who had traveled with the young teen admonished her behavior only to be ignored by the hyperactive brunette.

"What's it like to bend all the elements?!"

"I must apologize for my student, Avatar Korra. She has apparently forgotten her manners," the man chided further before introducing himself, "I am Evren's tutor, Shouma. It is an honor to meet you."

"Avatar Korra," she greeted politely, unsure of what to do about the little monkey still wrapped around her middle. She looked down at the girl and couldn't help but laugh at her open adoration, "Evren, right? I'm Korra, I hope we'll be good friends."

"Of course we will!" she exclaimed assuredly as she pulled away, "That's why I'm here."

"_Huh?"_

It was only shortly after that, that Korra realized that Evren was meant to be her lady-in-waiting and companion. A permanent fixture at the Palace rather than a temporary guest. The chosen solution for a woman of Korra's position who refused servants. The Avatar was upset at first but as the days went by Korra began to value the young girls company.

Evren was open and sincere, quick to laugh and easy to get along with. She was curious and frightfully imaginative with a love for literature. She reminded Korra of a mixture between Ikki and Jinora. It was probably for that reason that she found herself becoming so attached to the younger girl after only a few weeks.

"I'm going to head off to bed," Evren said with a yawn, three weeks after her arrival, pushing her glasses askew so that she could rub at the tired eyes underneath.

"Alright, goodnight then," Korra responded from the floor where she was practicing her stretches. Their bedchambers were right next to each other so Evren would often spend time with Korra in the evenings either chatting or reading.

The smaller girl waved as she walked to the door that separated their rooms, leather-bound book in hand and Korra shook her head with a smile. It really was nice to have a friend again.

.

.

"_Korra!" _

"Nn…"

"Korrrraaaa, wake up! It's already dawn. Almeiza and Kazou are going to kill you!"

"Bzuhh."

"I know, '_mornings are evil!'_ Now get up!"

"Dun wanna," Korra protested, turning away from the pestering girl. _Who decided dawn was a good time to wake up, anyway?_

"You'll be late for the coronation breakfast."

"The c….," Korra suddenly shot up in bed. "Oh no! The coronation breakfast!" she looked at Evren in panic. "They're going to kill me!"

"I told you!"

"Why didn't you wake me up sooner?" she demanded as she bolted to her closet for something suitable to wear.

"I tried!" she caterwauled. "It's not my fault that you sleep like the dead…"

"Yeah, well, we're both going to be wishing we were dead if we don't hurry. What time is it? No, never mind. I don't want to know," she shouted as she stepped into a dark purple dress robe that had been tailored for her the week before. "Can you get my hair clip? It should be in the bathroom hall," she asked as she sat at her vanity mirror and hurriedly combed through sleep knotted locks with a paddle brush.

"Which one?"

"The one with the purple flowers on the end."

Evren rushed passed her, skidding into the bathroom hall and searching the cabinets frantically.

"Where?"

"It should be in the box on the second shelf, I brought it with me from Republic City."

Evren shoved a stack of towels aside and dove for a small wooden box, opening it hastily and sending its contents scattering across the floor.

"Did you find it?!" Korra called from the next room.

"Yeah!" Evren hollered back as she reached for the golden clip with purple flowers but her eyes alighted on something else that made her freeze and her hand change direction.

She picked the photo up with cautious fingers, throwing a guilty look over her shoulder before peering down at the picture.

It was Korra- but she looked different, maybe a bit younger and with slightly shorter hair. But it was her expression that was so startling, carefree and full of joy as she looked at the man who held her in his arms. He was unknown to her, pale skinned and dark haired with eyes to match. The unfamiliar man was staring back at the woman in the circle of his arms, that same happy expression reflected back at her. _Who is that?_

"Evie?"

"C-coming, Korra!" she yelled, throwing everything back in the box and putting it carefully back on the shelf before gripping the hair pin in her palm and running out to meet Korra. _She couldn't just ask her, could she?_

In the picture, the couple had looked as if they were in love, but that couldn't be right, could it? Because Korra was going to be marrying Iroh soon and everyone always said what a good match they made. But Evren had never seen Korra show that kind of expression to her cousin. In fact the two didn't interact as much more than friends when seen together and it seemed like they both went to great lengths to not have to touch each other unless it was to spar.

A strange thought occurred to her as she watched Korra twist her hair at the back of her head. _Maybe Korra has a lover._

.

.

.

Korra sat in a place on honor, to the right of the short marble staircase that led to the platform where Iroh stood in the center of nine Fire Sages, the religious authority of the Fire Nation. One stood at Iroh's back, guiding the ritual while the other eight stood beside him in two lines, four at each side.

Evren and the Councilmembers sat at Korra's side while the immediate Royal family sat at the opposite side of the platform, looking on with pride as the Fire Nation Prince became Fire Lord.

There were other people in attendance as well; Prime ministers and leading citizens from the Commonwealth and representatives of other countries were also attendance among others. Kazou had explained to her at breakfast that the coronation is an occasion for pageantry and celebration, but it is also a solemn religious ceremony. She was now bearing witness to the truth of that statement.

Korra watched as Iroh placed two wreaths of jasmine on the golden tray seated on the thick mahogany table in front of him, he bowed deeply to the offerings before receiving a bundle of incense from one of the Fire Sages who led the other sages in a chant while Iroh lit the bundle with a burst of fire from his hand. He then stood still as the sages continued to chant, Korra noticed that his stance was in the well trained posture of the United Forces. He looked proud and intimidating. Somehow Korra couldn't help but smile. He was wearing floor length red robes for the occasion and she noticed that his hair was growing longer, curling slightly over the shells of his ears. It was traditional for Fire Lords to wear their hair long and in a top knot. She wondered what his hair would look like when it reached that length, down to mid-back or longer. She had a hard time imagining it.

Kazou leaned into Korra as Iroh began to light a golden candle, set at a place of obvious importance and surrounded by flower petals.

"That candle represents victory throughout the Fire Lord's reign, its left burning until the final day of the coronation festival," he explained. "A red one will be lit on your wedding day to represent your unity as a couple and your devotion to the Fire Nation. You both have to use fire bending at the same time to light the wick and it is considered very bad luck if any wax drips over the side before the end of the ceremony."

She was trying to pay attention but she was having a hard time concentrating because even while Kazou was talking, Iroh was reciting the Fire Nation Oath. His voice was loud and confident, deep tones echoing around the marble room and up to the vaulted ceiling. There was a line of priests at the back of the room who blew on conch shells, releasing a heavy wave of reverberating sound that Korra could feel deep in her ribcage.

"My life, I give to my country.

With my hands, I fight for the Fire Nation and in the interests of its people.

With my mind, I seek ways to better my country.

And with my feet, may our march of Civilization continue."

The Fire sages on the platform parted to reveal two golden thrones and Korra was struck with the knowledge that one of those seats would eventually be hers. She felt numb, her mind going blank as Iroh walked to the largest of the two thrones, taking his seat. He was anointed, blessed and consecrated by the Great Sage. A pair of golden slippers placed on his feet and a gilded ring slid onto his right pointer finger. All items of the royal regalia, including a jewel-encrusted sword and finally the golden headpiece that labeled him as Fire Lord. A small temporary base had been created for the crown to hold it in place until Iroh was able to wear it with the traditional top knot.

There was another round of chanting as the crown was settled unto Iroh's head and he rose to stand once more.

Korra could feel Evren's eyes on her and turned towards her, there was a broad smile on the young girls face and obvious excitement in her eyes.

"Soon you'll be standing up there by his side, being crowned. You must be so excited to get married," she gushed. Korra blinked at her, static buzzing in the back of her skull. Suddenly the room was too hot and too loud. She licked her lips nervously.

"…Yeah," she replied, looking up at the cold looking thrones and at the man that she had agreed to marry. She could feel a suffocating weight of responsibility settling on her shoulders, the reality of everything hitting her with full force.

There was dullness in her fiancés expression when he met her gaze and she could intuitively sense that his emotions corresponded to her own. She broke their temporary connection, hands fisting in her lap and back stiffening with resolve. They had come so far, it wasn't what either of them had chosen, but neither of them would back down. He was the Fire Lord now and she would be Fire Lady.

She mustered a glittering smile for her companion, "Yeah, I can't wait."

She didn't notice the look of unconvinced concern that crossed Evren's face. Nor the question that swarm behind round rimmed spectacles. _But _w_ho is the man in that picture?_

.

.

Head Guard Hamza stared unblinkingly into the night, staring at the dancing orange flames in the distance.

All of the pieces were in place, the pawns now sleeping comfortably in their beds after their most recent strategic play. It might give the people of the Palace a sense of security having young master Iroh as the newly instated Fire Lord but he had known well before that it was too little, too late.

Things were in motion that no new political head and no fancy wedding could stop. Even the Avatar would find herself out of her depth, surrounded by people with less loyalty to her than to their own Monarchy, in a strange unknown culture, completely cut off from her usual support system.

Some things just needed to be handled with brute force and desperate measures. They would eventually run out of options, and when that time came…

As he looked out at the clouds of smoke rising up from the nearby village of Caldera, just a few miles outside of the palace walls, he knew that things had only just begun.

_Even Agni couldn't save them now._

* * *

A/N: Sorry it's so short; I'm trying to get to the good stuff quickly! Let me know if it's hard to follow, I know Evren was kind of thrown in there but I didn't want to spend too much time developing their friendship as the relationship we really want to develop is Korroh, amirite?

R&R! Thanks to the readers who have stuck around even with the long wait! xoxo


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